


You're gone, what do I do?

by Midnight_Sunrise_63



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Attempted Murder, Attempted robbery, Broken Promises, Death, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/No Comfort, I suck at tags, I think it could possibly be a happy ending???, I think this should be enough tho, Kidnapping, Kuroo tries his best, Kyoutani and Yahaba are childhood friends, M/M, Nightmares, Oh Dear, Oikawa is scared of promises, Oikawa's Knee Injury, Panic Attacks, So much death, Some Fluff, Song: Anchor (Skillet), Song: Chasing Cars (Snow Patrol), Song: Line Without a Hook (Ricky Montgomery), Weddings, accidental injuries, afterlife where spirits watch over the living, and that should be enough tags by now jesus christ, basically a scene with a school shooting, but also hurt/comfort, child abuse/past abuse, don't listen to me anymore, don't wanna spoil too much, fathers are the worst in this story, fond memories, have a nice life, homophobic parents, i regret so much, just like... don't die???, more hurt/comfort, oh before i forget, please give everyone a hug, promise rings, reference to past lives, s3lf h@rm, so much hurt/no comfort, some nice times, these are all out of order but I'll just keep going, this was supposed to be a fluffy oneshot, too many tags, too much death, we absolutely love exploiting weaknesses, why did I write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 19:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 38,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30144204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midnight_Sunrise_63/pseuds/Midnight_Sunrise_63
Summary: His feet halted right then and there. The man was pointing his hand toward the woman at the register behind the cashier.Kyoutani was right behind the man.The man had a gun.And what really made Yahaba panic was this.The man whipped around and pointed the gun straight between Kyoutani’s eyes.Yahaba clasped his hands over his mouth, stifling a whimper yet he could not do the same for the evident tears in his eyes. His feet took one hesitant step closer, then another and another until he was close enough to see the man’s finger on the trigger.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kageyama Tobio/Kindaichi Yuutarou, Kindaichi Yuutarou/Kunimi Akira, Kuroo Tetsurou/Oikawa Tooru, Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	You're gone, what do I do?

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, after this, I'm working full-time on Akaashi's missing as well as Non-binary Akaashi, so enjoy this story!  
> TRIGGER WARNING TRIGGER WARNING TRIGGER WARNING  
> There is so much death in this, as well as s3lf h@rm, su^c^de, child @bu$e, and murder. Dear god, please stay safe while reading this and if you get triggered please do NOT continue because it's all throughout the story. And Oikawa kinnies/simps/etc, you'll hate me. (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞

“Mom, Dad, I want to talk about something,” Yahaba fiddled with the hem of his shirt nervously, peeking between his dinner plate, and his parents sitting across from him. “And it’s pretty serious.”

“Oh, go ahead and talk, Shigeru. We’re listening,” his mother hummed, yet she didn’t set her phone down. 

His father did the exact same thing. 

“Uhm,” Yahaba began, then inhaled deeply. “Do you two remember Kyoutani?”

“That boy you’ve known for years? Of course, honey. What about him?” she clicked something on her screen, then took a bite of dinner. 

“Well, you see,” he sighed. “I’m in love with him.”

That caused both phones to clatter onto the table. His parents both exchanged glances, then settled their eyes on Yahaba. “You’re… in  _ love,  _ Shigeru?” his father’s fingers tensed around the chopsticks. “With a  _ man _ ?”

“Yes. I’m gay,” Yahaba felt the atmosphere weigh down on his shoulders, and all he wanted to do was allow gravity to take him down through the floorboards. 

However, no magical pull could yank him away from the piercing eyes of his parents.

“Oh.” His mother finally broke the silence. “I see. Would you like to take over, dear?” She patted his father’s shoulder, her chair squawking in protest as she exited the room. “It’ll be some father-son bonding time.”

Yahaba shifted his gaze to look into his father’s eyes as the front door was slammed. “Uhm, is everything okay?” he tried, but was hushed by a calm pair of chopsticks hitting the table.  _ Shit shit shit I shouldn’t have told them, I’m really going to regret this! _

“So, you’re gay, huh?” Yahaba responded with a nod. “Well, I think that’s very different and interesting. Do you know how many times we’ve asked you to carry on our family name, Shigeru?” A pause. “Our  _ honorable _ family name?” 

“You’ve been telling me ever since I was a kid,” he squeaked out.

“Tell me what we’ve told you, Shigeru.”

“I am to have three sons, and one daughter,” he whispered, all of the rules and regulations when it came to his future all rushing back into his head after being shelved for the last year. “Biological, all of them. I am to find a suitable wife, not a wife of my personal choice. She has to cook, clean, and be the perfect wife. She has to bear these children, and I’m to father them, train them into becoming businessmen just like how I will grow up to be. We will live a long and wealthy life, passing on our money to the next generations for them to keep the business going.”

“And how will you being gay change this?”

“This entire plan will not happen because I will not have any biological children.” His hands clearly trembled with fear. 

“Yes, that is correct. So, what are you going to do about this?” his father leaned forwards, eyes expectant.

“I am not going to do anything about it because I love Kyoutani.”  _ Fuck. _

“Oh. I see. Well then, get out of this house,” he relaxed into the back of his chair, crossing his arms. “Pack a bag and leave, right here, right now.”

“Wait what?”

“You heard me, Shigeru. You’re now a disgrace to our family name. Get out.” 

“Oh,” Yahaba scooted his chair back and stood, bowing his head slightly to his father. “Well then, if that is what you wish.” He took a couple steps towards the stairs, then flashed a tiny, painful smile back at his father. “I guess this will be goodbye.”

“Good riddance,” he waved his hand dismissively, turning his full attention back onto his phone.

Yahaba pulled up his phone, dialing a number as he disappeared into his room. “Hey, Kyou! Uhh,” he bit his lip.

“Shiga? Something wrong?” Koutani’s voice huffed from the opposite line. “Are you okay? Please don’t say you’re hurt.”

“No no, Kyou, I’m fine! I’m not hurt physically,” Yahaba picked up two dufflebags and his school bag. “Hey, look. I just got kicked out of my house.”

“Huh?”

“I told my parents that I was gay and it boiled over the pot,” he shrugged, shoving his clothes into his bags, including practice wear and his school uniform. “I need a place to stay, is it okay if I crash with you?”

“Shiga, is that even a question? Get your ass over here before I come pick you up and throw hands to those dumbass parents of yours,” Kyoutani growled.

“Calm down, Mad Dog-chan,” Yahaba chuckled. “I’ll be there in about twenty or so minutes.”

“Alright,” Kyoutani grumbled some incoherent nonsense, then hung up with one final phrase. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Kyou.”

Yahaba stuffed the phone into his pocket, and he finished packing big bags. He picked them all up over his shoulders, and he stumbled down the stairs. “Well, thanks for caring for me. Goodbye, I guess,” he didn’t bother to wave, only threw the front door open and started limping down the sidewalk.

He only tripped about three times, but reached Kyoutani’s house in one piece. He knocked his foot against the door, shouting, “Kyou! It’s me!”

The door was yanked open immediately, and his bags were taken from his grasp. “No, Kyou, it’s okay, I can carry them,” he tried to protest, but Kyoutani just shook his head, shutting the door as soon as Yahaba was inside.

“Go sit, I’ll take these to our room,” he landed a lopsided kiss on Yahaba’s forehead. 

_ Our. Not yours, not mine, our. _ He giggled, covering his mouth and walking deeper into the house, then collapsed onto the couch. He thought for a moment, then finally processed what had just occurred. “Oh.”

Kyoutani came back downstairs a few minutes later only to see Yahaba silently crying on the couch. His eyes wide and two thick streams of tears cascading down his face. “Whoa, Shigeru?!”

“Sorry, Kyou. I just finally realized what happened,” he wiped his eyes, then felt weight on the spot beside him. He leaned against the shoulder of Kyoutani, allowing his arms to wrap around him and hold him close.

“Don’t worry about your parents anymore, alright? I’m going to take care of you from now on, Shiga,” Kyoutani buried his nose into Yahaba’s hair, kissing the top of his head in the process. 

“Mh-hm, I’d like that,” he yawned, reclining into Kyoutani’s arms. “I’m just gonna sleep now, I’m exhausted.”

“Alright, Shiga. I’ll carry you upstairs too,” he gently picked up the sleep-ridden body, stepping up the stairs carefully and gracefully. Yahaba was asleep by the time they reached their bedroom. Kyoutani laid him down, pulling the covers over him. He admired the calm face, dabbing at the tear scars with a damp towel, cleaning his cheeks. 

He kneeled by his side, head finding itself resting atop his chest. He soon climbed into bed as well, hugging the sleeping boy close. “I’m sorry you’ve been kicked out of your own house, but I promise I’m going to love you more than they could ever hope to. I’m going to be the best just for you, Shiga. I love you so much.”

Faintly, with the last of his waking strength, Yahaba responded, his voice quieter than a murmur. “Love you too, Kyou.”

However it may appear to the outside world, Kyoutani has a soft spot for Yahaba. Hands down, undeniable, huge-ass softie. But he would never admit that in a million years. He only clings to Yahaba behind closed, and locked, doors. Safe and secure where he doesn't have to worry about anyone barging in and teasing him or hurting Yahaba because of it.

But if Yahaba got hurt, that was a completely different story.

Kyoutani slammed his hand down on the ball, spiking it right on the line and earning some praise from Oikawa. He huffed and gruffly asked for another. However, a loud this and a wail made him jerk his head to the center of the court next to them, where Yahaba was lying on the ground, clearly in pain. He dropped the ball immediately and speed-walked over to the whimpering boy.

"Shigeru?" he asked, only to be answered with a frantic, "Don't touch me, please don't touch me." 

The team all gathered around, but made enough space to make Kyoutani and Yahaba comfortable in the middle. Oikawa tried to get closer, but Kyoutani growled,  _ growled _ , and caressed Yahaba's hair.

"Come on, I'll take you home, Shigeru," he offered, and the aching boy barely nodded once, teeth clenched and eyes screwed shut as he squirmed in place. Kyoutani scooped him up, careful to not cause him any grief from whatever was painting him. 

He began walking out of the gym, with the entire team just staring in awe and a hint of confusion. "Did Kyoutani just…" Hanamaki started.

"Growl at me?" 

"Be a softie?"

"Pick up Yahaba?"

"Care for someone?"

Oikawa, Matsukawa, Iwaizumi, and Kunimi all asked in perfect, unintentional unison.

"Yes," everyone else replied, and they all burst into laughter.

Meanwhile, Kyoutani was hurrying home as fast as he could while carrying a boy who had just started to cry.

"Shiga!" he exclaimed, and quickly slowed to a stop. "Are you okay? Why are you crying? What hurts?!"

"Think- ah!" He gritted his teeth and another tear escaped his eye. "I landed wrong, ankle hurts!" he spouted, and Kyoutani felt his heart break.

He hated whenever Yahaba was in pain, especially to the point where he's crying because it hurts so much. "Don't worry, Shiga, I'll take care of you. Just let me get you home."

"M-mh-hm."

He hurried down the last few blocks, finally reaching his house and slamming the code for the garage in. It creaked open, and Kyoutani rushed inside the house, gingerly placing Yahaba on the couch. He bustled around, grabbing ice, blankets, food, and painkillers. He recalled everything his mother taught him, since she was a nurse at a school, she knew how to deal with playground injuries.

He got to work on Yahaba's ankle, ever so carefully poking and prodding to check if the bone was broken. He released a sigh of relief when he found it wasn't. The boy had only landed on it wrong and it gave out on him. He wrapped an ice back around it, securing it with some medical tape and bandages. He entered the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and bringing it back to Yahaba. 

"Take two of these, Shiga," he advised, and the boy on the couch nodded. He opened his mouth, letting Kyoutani drop both pills in and gently pour some water into his mouth as well. He placed the blanket over Yahaba, and sat next to him, pulling him to his chest to hug him. "I'll ask Iwaizumi to bring our bags by here."

Yahaba just stirred and did not answer. Kyoutani looked down and noticed him asleep. He smiled slightly, and closed his eyes as well. He'd start dinner later.

When Yahaba awoke the next morning, Kyoutani was standing by the closet. He sat up and groaned at the slight pain in his ankle. Kyoutani turned around. “Ah, you're awake.”

He pulled the covers over his chest and slammed his head back onto the pillow. He tried to stand but ended up face planting into the carpet. 

“Need help? I can carry you, Shigeru,” Kyoutani offered, making for the bed with an oversized sweatshirt in his hands. He gave it and a pair of shorts to Yahaba, helping him to get changed. 

“Uh… yes please. Carry me like I'm your bride, Kentarou!” Yahaba giggled, stretching out his arms to Kyoutani.

He chuckled, picking up the sore teenager and taking him to the stairs. “I will.”

“Will what?” 

“Make you my bride.”

“So cheesy, but I accept,” he lifted his head up and kissed Kyoutani's chin.

“Then, let me give you this,” he rested Yahaba on the couch and pulled a small box from his pocket. “It’s… you can guess.”

“A promise ring?” He gasped at the small band in the box.

“I've been wanting to ask you for a while now, Shigeru,” he whispered. “I want to marry you when we’re older. I really want to.”

“Well, isn't today your lucky day, Kentarou! I…” he trailed off, then threw his arms around Kyoutani and hid his face in his shoulder. “I want to marry you too, so I'm going to take this promise ring and kiss the  _ fuck _ out of you!”

“Please do,” he slipped the ring on his left ring finger and took up Yahaba in his arms. He showered him with butterfly kisses, spinning him around like a ceiling fan. 

Yahaba giggled, kissing the top of Kyoutani's head. “Kyou!” He laughed. “Kyou, put me down for a sec!”

He did as he was tolds but kept his arms underneath Yahaba’s in order to keep him standing. Yahaba pressed his lips to Kyoutani's, kissing him tenderly and lovingly. 

“So, dearest husband-to-be, when do ya wanna make these promise rings real?” Yahaba flexed his ring at the light, watching it glitter as he showed it proudly.

“As soon as we graduate college, if possible. I'll get a job now and I'll work to provide and pay for the wedding, I-I’ll be the best husband I can be just for you, Shiga. I promise, I do I do I do,” he laid down on the couch, hugging Yahaba beneath him. “I want the best for you and I want to be the best for you so I'm going to work so so hard for you, Shigeru.”

“Kyou, you're not the only one that has to work, you know?” Yahaba said into his shoulder. “I can help too.”

“Mhm, maybe so. But if I'm the husband and you're the wife, I work and you watch the kids,” he gave a small smile. 

He shrugged. “I still kinda want to work, at least until we adopt a kid or two.”

“Two, so they won't get lonely when they're home alone,” Kyoutani added. 

“Wait! Get some paper and pencils! We can write down our plan right now!” He giggled sweetly and Kyoutani's heart melted. 

He nodded, standing and grabbing the required items then sitting next to Yahaba, who leaned over his shoulder. “So, write down today's date and how we gave each other the promise rings,” he said. “We can make a timeline of sorts, and our preferred times for taking another step in our future. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, I do,” he keeled over the coffee table, scribbling words onto the paper. 

“Great! So, what next? You getting your job and me getting mine?” Yahaba received a nod. “So, when? How soon do you want your job?”

“Given what we are doing now, I'd say as soon as possible. I want some money saved up before our third year. We'd have to take night shifts or weekend shifts, though,” he laxed his grip on his pencil, then pulled Yahaba into his lap and hugged him close. 

“Then carry me to the computer, dearest husband-to-be! I'll do some research and you can work on the timeline!” Yahaba pecked Kyoutani's cheek.

“But first, let me make some breakfast for us,” he swept Yahaba up, whisking him away to the kitchen and letting him sit on the counter.

Yahaba kicked his legs back and forth as he watched Kyoutani bustle around the kitchen, preparing eggs and toast for the both of them. “Kyou,” Yahaba suddenly started. 

“Hm?” he answered, not looking away from the eggs.

“These rings, you know it could mean,” he broke off for a second, then continued. “It could mean going public with our relationship.”

“I know. I considered that so many times. But, I came to the conclusion that I don't… need to care. If people know you're mine, they’ll know you're off-limits,” he sighed. “The internal battle was hard, but I did decide that this is the best idea for the both of us.” 

Yahaba chuckled. “I'm so excited. I've been wanting to be your wife for a while now.” 

The eggs were placed on the toast, then Kyoutani set the plates down beside Yahaba before face planting into his lap. He wasn't taken aback when he felt fingers threading through his hair. Instead, he just blushed, then planted a few soft kisses on Yahaba's inner thighs before drawing back and hugging him tightly, face pressed to his chest.

“You're so cuddly today, Kyou. C’mere, you big cuddle bear,” he opened his arms, slid off the counter and allowed Kyoutani to melt into his arms. He continued soothing his hair, humming into his ear quietly. 

Kyoutani collapsed, completely head over heels in love with the boy holding him. He let it happen, closing his eyes in acceptance. “Kyou? Are you crying?!”

He nodded, but just tightened his grip. “I don't know what I did to deserve you. I must have saved a king or something in my past life,” he let out a chuckle, continuing to let his tears run free. “God I love you so much, Shigeru.”

Yahaba sighed, stroking Kyoutani's arm. “I'm gonna be stuck with this clingy cuddle bear for the rest of my life. And you know? It isn't gonna be that bad. I love you too.”

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Kyoutani carried Yahaba to the dining table and set him down. He grabbed the food and sat down himself. He started watching Yahaba eat before beginning his own breakfast. "Dear God how did I get so lucky?" he wondered aloud.

Yahaba shrugged. "You just did, don't question it."

Kyoutani nodded and landed a hand on Yahaba's thigh, softly stroking the skin as his fingers raised up to the hem of his shorts. Yahaba blushed slightly, then took a bite of his toast, allowing Kyoutani to keep touching him. He closed his eyes, his thoughts occupied by possible future scenarios. He giggled at the thought of Kyoutani in a suit, waiting for him at the end of the aisle. 

When he opened his eyes again, Kyoutani was staring at him with the truest look of love in his awe-struck eyes. He smiled kindly, making Kyoutani flustered and nervous. "So cute, Kyou," Yahaba flicked Kyoutani's nose affectionately. 

He grumbled something that wasn't audible, then let his face find itself buried into Yahaba's chest comfortably. "Moody baby," he joked, looking down at the boy and stroking his hair. "I love you so much."

Kyoutani simply nodded, then sat up and took the plates, rinsing them in the sink then retreating back to Yahaba. He opened his arms, lifting the brunette and carrying him to sit at the computer desk. He pulled up another chair, sitting next to him and continuing to work on the timeline while Yahaba searched for available jobs.

After some silence, Yahaba started singing a song under his breath. "I don't really give a damn about the way you touch me, when we're alone. You can hold my hand if no one's home."

Kyoutani recognized the song, humming along to the tune as Yahaba continued the lyrics. "Do you like it when I'm away?" 

"If I went and hurt my body baby would you love me the same?" Kyoutani jumped in, and Yahaba turned to face him, the song breaking off in that moment, his eyes asking the question for him. "No, I haven't, Shiga. I just like the song," he answered before Yahaba could speak.

"Thank God," he breathed, kissing Kyoutani's cheek swiftly. "But besides that, look here," he pointed to the screen. "Openings on weeknights and weekends at this restaurant. It pays pretty high, too."

"Mh hm," he leaned closer, examining the screen. "Oh, there's a spot for a chef."

"Mhm. Better fire up your resume, Kentarou. And even if you don't get the chef position, there are other spots," he took a couple notes. "So, are we gonna work at the same place or?"

"I'd prefer that we do," he said and Yahaba nodded in acknowledgement. 

"Alright, let's get our resumes done then!"

After a long day of planning and making their resumes, Yahaba and Kyoutani collapsed into bed, arms wrapped around each other under the covers. Some quiet time passed, with the brunette hugging Kyoutani's head to his chest, whispering sweet words in his ear and stroking his arm. Whilst Yahaba thought Kyoutani was asleep, he was actually wide awake, hanging onto every single word that left Yahaba's mouth.

"You have no idea how long I've been wanting this, Kentarou," he admitted in a soft, loving tone. "I've dreamed of getting married, but just didn't know who. I honestly never expected my future husband to be my childhood best friend." He chuckled at the fond memories of his past. "I'm so glad I met you. And I know you're probably asleep right now, but that's okay. You already know how much I love you."

Kyoutani shifted, tightening his grip on Yahaba's waist, who giggled and kissed the top of his head. "Goodnight, dearest husband-to-be. I'll see you in the morning."

Then, once it was certain that Yahaba was asleep, Kyoutani started to cry. Happy tears, thankfully. Happy and silent.  _ I really have no idea what I did to deserve someone like you,  _ he thought as he adjusted their position. He was now hugging a curled-up Yahaba to his chest, head nestled neatly under his chin. 

And finally, with a smile on his face and his wife-to-be in his arms, Kyoutani fell into peaceful slumber. 

Or, so he thought. 

Kyoutani had been asleep for a short while, probably between thirty to forty-five minutes. However, that was all the sleep he got until he had a terrible feeling of dread sneaking up on him. It was overtaking his dreams and keeping a hold on his emotions. The smothering sensation didn't end, not even when he registered someone trying to shake him awake.

But there was nothing ahead of him, just the blank pits of darkness wanting to swallow him whole. 

A small splotch suddenly appeared at the end of the darkness tunnel, then slowly made for Kyoutani. It was rapidly approaching, and it became clearer. That's when Kyoutani realized what the image was. Or, what the general idea of it was.

It was Yahaba, but… it was wrong, all wrong. Before he could fully place a finger on it, he scared himself awake at the sound of his own breath. His eyes flew open and he jerked to his knees. "Shigeru?! Where are you?!" 

"Whoa, calm down! I'm here, here!" Yahaba clutched onto Kyoutani's shirt, turning him to look into his eyes. "Kentarou, calm yourself. Take a deep breath, then speak."

Kyoutani just then noticed his breath was short and rapid, sweat dripping down his face and soaking his shirt collar. He leaned back, head falling onto Yahaba's chest. He slowed his inhale, closing his eyes and concentrating on every little movement that Yahaba made. 

Five minutes of silence passed, then Kyoutani spoke. "Nightmare," he said shortly. "It was so dark, and there was something at the end of the tunnel, and it was an image of you, but I couldn't tell what you were doing."

Yahaba nodded in understanding. "Do you think you'll be able to sleep again?" he whispered in Kyoutani's ear comfortingly.

He shrugged. "I don't know if I would want to."

Again, Yahaba nodded. "Then, let's get off the floor and I'll hold you. If you fall asleep, then you do. I'll be here, okay?"

"A-alright, yeah. I might sleep if you're here," he stood shakily, steadying his wobbling legs as he sat on the bed. He laid back down, fluffing the pillows as Yahaba stared at him, remorse in his gaze. 

"I'm sorry you had a nightmare, Kyou," he pulled the covers over Kyoutani, sighing.

"Well… what can you do?" He averted his eyes from the boy in front of him. He lifted one arm, letting Yahaba scoot into his embrace. "I'll just try and sleep again."

"I'll sing to you, I know it calms you," he offered and Kyoutani eagerly accepted, sparing no time nodding at Yahaba to use his angelic voice to soothe him. "Drifting beneath the horizon, body is weak but I'm trying to make it to shore, but I'm falling short. I need you more," he sang quietly, voice barely louder than a mutter.

As he continued the song, Kyoutani found himself comforted and calm, swung to ease at the sound of his wife-to-be's voice. He fell asleep in the middle of the song, and thankfully, there were no nightmares this time around. 

_ Thank God. _

"Have you finished your resume, Kyou?" Yahaba asked during breakfast the next morning, looking up from his mutilated eggs. 

"Mh hm. You?" He got a nod as confirmation. "We can apply today, then."

"You know, Kyou. I don't mind if you want to take it easy today. That nightmare last night seemed… terrible," he reached and held onto Kyoutani's shaking hand. "I can go to the store and get some tea, then you rest while I take care of you?"

Kyoutani seemed to be in a dazed state, and Yahaba stroked his hand. "Alright, I'll clean up. Go ahead and sit on the couch."

The brunette led Kyoutani to the couch, then proceeded to clean up the dining table from breakfast. He got prepared for the trip, grabbing his keys and wallet before landing a kiss on Kyoutani's forehead. “I'll be back soon, okay?”

Then he left. 

_ Please don't go… _

Yahaba scanned the store shelves, picking and choosing specific snacks and tea for himself and his husband-to-be. He chose simple chamomile tea, dropping it into the small basket that was looped around his arm. He also picked some chicken, green tea mochi, packs of small snacks, and other ingredients for making simple teriyaki. 

He made his purchase and began home. He inhaled the fresh summer air, instantly calmed and his worries flushed out. But that only lasted until he reached the front door and noticed a very peculiar sound coming from inside the house. 

He unlocked the door, slowly pushing it open and taking a single step in. “Kyou?” 

The sound immediately hitched, and some shuffling replaced it. “Shiga?”

Yahaba turned and shut the door, locking it securely and removing his shoes before taking up the groceries to the counter. He peeked over the side of the counter and froze. “Kyou are you okay?!” he fell to his knees at the sight of Kyoutani laying down on his side, tears spilling from his eyes.

“I thought-” he broke off, shoving his face in Yahaba’s lap and continuing to cry. “I thought you left me! I-I was so scared!”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. I’m not gone, I’m never leaving you. I just went to the store, and look. I got you chicken,” he tried to smile, but Kyoutani didn’t see. His nose was nuzzling between Yahaba’s legs, tears soaking his jeans. He sighed, stroking Kyoutani’s head and neck.

“You got chicken?” he finally spoke once more after a minute. 

“Yes, Kyou,” Yahaba reached up, pulling the grocery bag down to the floor and letting Kyoutani take a peek. “We can have teriyaki chicken and rice for lunch, then stay on the couch and rest for the day. You’ll get free cuddles,” he added, and Kyoutani smiled at that. 

“Since when did cuddling you come with a price?” he raised an eyebrow, looking up to make eye contact with his wife-to-be. 

"It always has, it's just been added to your tab," Yahaba responded, cupping Kyoutani's cheek and stroked the skin underneath his eye.

"Mphm," he grumbled in response, leaning into the hand on his cheek. "I'm never gonna pay for them, you know."

"Yeah, I know."

And that was the end of the conversation. Yahaba allowed Kyoutani to hug him from behind as the brunette cooked lunch. He shuffled along with Yahaba's movements, keeping his arms wrapped around his waist and chin on his shoulder. Every once in a while, Yahaba would shift his head and plant a kiss on Kyoutani's cheek.

"Here, taste," Yahaba held up a piece of teriyaki chicken to Kyoutani's mouth and he bit down on it, chewing slowly. 

"Mmh, good, just like the rest of your cooking," Kyoutani complimented and his wife-to-be smiled. 

"Alright, since nothing needs to be changed, lunch is served!" He signalled for Kyoutani to release him and he unwillingly complied.

Yahaba dished out two bowls as Kyoutani sat down. He carried them both over, sitting in Kyoutani's lap and starting to eat his lunch. He wrapped his arms around Yahaba, placing a few kisses on his nape before picking up his chopsticks and beginning on his own.

“After lunch, let’s go apply for the jobs, okay?” Yahaba suggested, and Kyoutani nodded. “And don’t be so uptight about it, Kyou. We’re gonna have a nice and stable future, don’t you worry!”

“I’m not uptight! It’s just… I really want you to have the best life ever, Shiga,” he mumbled. 

“With you, any future will be the best,” he nuzzled his nose against Kyoutani’s cheek and giggled at the sudden rush of red on his face. “Come on, eat up. The sooner we apply, the sooner we get their response.”

Kyoutani wiped at his eyes, then noticed the splotch of black on his thumb. “Ah, shit.”

“Hm? What’s wrong?” Yahaba craned his neck to see Kyoutani’s fingers. “Ooh, did your eyeliner smear?”

“Shut up. I’ll just wash it off,” he grumbled, lifting Yahaba up and slipping out from underneath him. “I’ll be back in a minute, Shiga.”

“No! I want to redo your eyeliner,” Yahaba used his puppy eyes on Kyoutani, hands clasped in plead. “Please, Kyou? You wouldn’t deny your wonderful, beautiful wife-to-be this great honor, would you?”

Kyoutani’s face flushed an even brighter crimson. “Fine! Just this once, you hear?!”

“Yay!” Yahaba bounced out of his seat, all but dragging Kyoutani to the bathroom. “I’m excited! Come on, hurry up and sit on the counter, Kyou!”

“Tch, fine,” he huffed, hopping up onto the counter and situating himself so Yahaba had easy access to his face. He leaned forwards, closing his eyes gently.

Yahaba cupped Kyoutani’s cheek, picking up the eyeliner pen with a small smile. He reached his eye and pressed the tip of the pen to the lid of his eye. He drew a thin line, creating a graceful wing before doing the exact same on the opposite side. After he was finished, he patted Kyoutani’s cheek and kissed his lips tenderly. “Thank you, Kyou. That was fun.”

“You know,” he gave a slight pout as he opened his eyes, embracing Yahaba’s lips once more before continuing. “Maybe I’ll let you do my eyeliner more often.”

“Yay!” Yahaba threw his arms around Kyoutani’s neck. He skipped out of the bathroom, then something outside the window caught his eye. He raced to the window, mouth agape in surprise. “Kyou, it’s snowing!” He jumped up and down. “Look, it’s already piled a little! Let’s go outside!”

“Woah, hey, Shigeru!” Kyoutani watched as the brunette scurried downstairs, snagging coats and scarves as he ran. “Slow down, baby!” He followed him, only to see he was already fixing himself with a scarf.

“Hurry up, Kyou!” He adjusted his hair, then frantically gestured for Kyoutani to adorn himself with the warm attire.

“Alright, alright, calm down, Shiga,” he bent down, picking up the coat from the floor and sliding his arms through the holes. Meanwhile, Yahaba was already out the front door. Kyoutani fumbled for a moment, then wrapped a scarf around his neck and opened the door. 

He saw Yahaba in the middle of the driveway, spinning around with his arms extended. He tilted his head back, smiling at Kyoutani. He reached his hand towards him, beckoning him closer. Kyoutani obeyed, and Yahaba kneeled down, picking up some gathered snow. He giggled, then threw it right into the center of Kyoutani’s chest.

“Come and get me, Kyou!” he teased.

“Oh, you are going to  _ get _ it, Shigeru,” Kyoutani bent over, gathering a heaping handful of snow. He ran the few steps to Yahaba, tossing the snow right into the boy’s face. 

He sputtered, wiping his face with his sleeve. “Asshole!” he screeched, tackling Kyoutani back into the grass. He sat himself on top of Kyoutani’s chest, taking the snow from the grass and rubbing it into his face. He yelped as two hands snatchd his hips, hoisting him up and throwing him onto the soft powder.

Kyoutani topped Yahaba, holding his hands down with one arm and using the other to shovel snow onto the brunette. He barked out a laugh, watching Yahaba’s face scrunch up from the cold. “I got you, Shiga!”

“Kyoutani Kentarou, I swear to god,” Yahaba’s voice turned serious.

The boy in question froze in place and he immediately slid off, panic in his eyes. Yahaba sat up, then broke into childish giggles. “Are you seriously that scared of me?”

“You’re scary when you’re angry, ever since we were kids,” he shivered. “B-besides, happy wife means happy life, right?”

“Wow. You’ve thought this through a lot, haven’t you?” he poked Kyoutani’s nose, then shoved some snow onto his cheek. “Happy wife  _ does _ mean happy life! You’ve taught yourself well.”

“Well, I’ll do anything to keep my Shiga happy,” he rolled them both over in the snow, pressing Yahaba down into the ground. He continued where he left off, but this time, he entangled snow in Yahaba’s hair.

Yahaba squirmed under Kyoutani’s weight, laughing and trying his best to push the other off. “S-stop it, Kyou!”

“Not until you say the magic words,” he smirked at Yahaba in the dimming lights of the night.

“Fine. Te amo, así que por favor déjame ponerte de pie,” his lips folded into a triumphant grin. “Oikawa-senpai’s been teaching me some Spanish,” he responded when Kyoutani’s face flushed a much deeper red than possible.

“What the hell did you just say?” he gaped at the boy, inching off of him and allowing him to sit up.

“Nothing important,” he waved his hand. “Nada tienes de qué preocuparte, mi amor.”

“I swear, you’re getting more and more like Oikawa each day,” he rolled his eyes, slapping some snow onto his face in a poor attempt to cool his cheeks down.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing, Kyou?” He looked over his shoulder as he stood.

“Bad, definitely bad.” He paused. “But please learn some more Spanish because it sounds so beautiful when you speak it.”

Yahaba chuckled, holding out his hand for his husband-to-be. “Alright, I’ll keep learning Spanish just for you.”

It had been two days, and the restaurant finally got back to the couple about applying. 

“Kyou, they got back to us, look!” Yahaba pulled up his email. Kyoutani came to the desk, resting his chin atop Yahaba’s head and humming in question. Yahaba pulled up the email, reading it aloud. “Yahaba-san and Kyoutani-san-”

“Bla bla bla skip the formalities and check if they accepted our applications,” he was bouncing on the balls of his feet, anxiously waiting.

“Alright,” Yahaba squinted at the writing, then smiled. “We’re both accepted, Kyou! They want to interview us!”

Kyoutani pumped his fist in the air with a low “Yes!” rumbling from his throat. Yahaba chuckled and stood, turning away from the computer and kissing Kyoutani’s cheek.

“I’ll email them back with a time and date, alright? Now go start on dinner and I’ll join you in a few minutes,” he sat back down and felt Kyoutani kiss his cheek then jog off into the kitchen.

As he wrote the email, he heard Kyoutani grumble something angrily after a loud clunk sounded from the kitchen. “Kyou?” he called, taking his eyes off the screen for just a moment to see Kyoutani storming around the counter, slamming a pot into the sink and aggressively turning the water on.

“Are you okay?” he raised an eyebrow and Kyoutani turned towards him, nodding once, and returning to the faucet. “Uhh, okay?”

He shrugged and faced the computer, sending off the finished email with a small huff of approval. He stood, slinking to the kitchen and resting his chin on Kyoutani’s shoulder. “Did you hurt yourself, Kyou? Do you want me to kiss it?”

Kyoutani judded his lip out a little and held up a slightly swollen finger. Yahaba took it to his mouth and landed a soft kiss on it. “I can get some ice for you too, Kyou.” That earned him a slight head shake and an affectionate kiss on his nose as thanks. “Okay, what else do you need? Better yet, what are you making?”

“Miso soup and fried rice,” he replied, his voice under a slight string of strain. 

“Does your finger still hurt, Kyou? Let me get some ice, then,” he released Kyoutani and stepped towards the fridge, taking an ice pack out of the drawer beside the fridge and filling it with ice. He beckoned Kyoutani to him, and once he complied, Yahaba took his hand and gently placed the ice pack onto it. “Go ahead and sit down, Kyou. I’ll keep making dinner, okay?”

“No, I’m okay, I can make dinner,” he said, but Yahaba just kissed his swollen finger again and looked him in the eyes. 

“Sit down and wait for the swelling to stop,” he smiled sweetly. “Okay?”

Finally, he complied and made to sit at the dining table, cradling his hand and applying the ice pack generously. Yahaba turned back to the pot and proceeded to collect the ingredients from the pantry. He had just clicked the button down on the rice cooker when Kyoutani joined him in the kitchen again. “Show me your finger, Kyou,” Yahaba held out his hand towards him. 

“It’s fine now,” he muttered, yet still reached up and held his finger in Yahaba’s hand. He received a quick peck on his knuckle, then a kind upwards quirk showed on his lips. “I love you, Shiga.”

“I love you too, Kyou,” Yahaba intertwined their fingers, looking up at him and knocking their noses together. “Now, let’s continue getting dinner ready, yeah?”

“Mh hm,” he agreed. 

The rest of the night was quiet, consisting of dinner and a movie before it was bedtime. After an email check in the morning, Yahaba confirmed that their interview was three days away at one in the afternoon.

“Now, you have to make sure you have manners, Kyou,” he flicked Kyoutani’s nose, glaring into his eyes, which were avoiding his.

Yeah yeah, I’ll have manners,” he grumbled. “I’ll try to anyway, depends on-”

“No, it depends on nothing. Sure, they might make you upset in some way or another, but you will just have to grin and bear it. I’ll be there to hold your hand, so don’t worry about it, okay?” Yahaba turned his cheek towards him and leaned up to kiss his lips tenderly.

“Okay,” he sighed, resting his forehead against Yahaba’s. 

“Also, Kyou. Have you had any more nightmares?” he shifted on the couch, adjusting himself so he could hear Koutani’s heartbeat.

“No, I haven’t. But, I have been feeling really strange whenever you leave to go to the store or something,” he wrapped an arm around the brunette, hands a little shaky as they held onto Yahaba.

“Are you lonely? If so, then it’s normal, Kyou,” he grabbed the unsteady hands and stroked them comfortingly. 

“No, I don’t think I’m lonely. I think I’m scared.”

That made Yahaba push away and look up. “You’re scared? How so?”

“I don’t know, just scared,” he sighed. “Maybe scared that something might happen to you and I won’t be able to protect you, because that’s how that nightmare made me feel.”

“I see,” he dipped his head to kiss Kyoutani’s lips tenderly, pulling away a few seconds later. “How about this, you come to the store with me next time, okay? Would that make you feel better?”

“I think so,” Kyoutani closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “I hope so.”

“Mh-hm,” Yahaba hummed before a yawn overtook him. “I think I’m going to take a nap, Kyou.”

“Sleep well, Shigeru. I’ll watch over you,” Kyoutani reached for the blanket across the couch, pulling it over himself and Yahaba. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Kyou.”

_ Nothing bad will happen to me, I promise, Kyou. _

Kyoutani scrolled through an app on his phone, occasionally planting small kisses on the top of Yahaba’s head. He checked the time, and it had been about forty minutes since Yahaba fell asleep. He sighed, brushing his fingers through the light brown locks.

But then he sensed that same feeling as the nightmare a few nights before. He clenched his eyes shut, but the same image flashed into his head. Except this time, it was clearer and Kyoutani could actually tell what was going on.

He screamed, throwing his eyes open and bolting upright. He stumbled off the couch, slamming his forehead against one of the couch’s side tables. He whipped around, thinking Yahaba didn’t wake up. 

_ No no no no no no no- _

“Kentarou! You’re bleeding!” 

His dazed eyes looked up to see the brunette in front of them, but then they closed and he fell onto the carpet, unconscious. 

His forehead was warm yet cold, covered but naked. He couldn’t tell what was going on, for all his senses were covered up by the sudden rush of panic. “SHIGERU!”

“Kyoutani, calm down! You’re okay, you’re okay, alright?” 

A hand on his chest, another grasping his own. “Shiga? You’re here?”

“Yes, Kyou, I’m here and I’m okay.” A kiss to his temple, arms wrapping around him. 

_ Yes, Shigeru is here. No one else would bother, he’s the only one who would be here by my side.  _ He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”

“What happened, Kyou? One moment you were fine and then…” he trailed off with a concerned look in his gaze. 

“That image from the nightmare, Shigeru, it came back. It was you and you were-” he choked back a sob, eyebrows knotting together as his eyes welled up with tears. 

“Shh, Kyou, you don’t have to say,” he carded his fingers over Kyoutani’s head, rubbing kind circles onto his scalp. “It’s alright, I’m still here.”

He buried his face into Yahaba’s chest in an attempt to dry his tears on the latter’s shirt. “Shigeru, you were lying in a puddle of blood.”

“Kyoutani, it was just a dream. You really don’t have to be so clingy and protective every single hour of the day,” Yahaba caressed Kyoutani’s cheek before placing a kiss onto it. “I’m going to be okay, it was just a dream.”

“But I-I-I-” he spluttered. “Shigeru, if you died I would have nothing. I don’t want to lose you, dream or not.”

He sighed. “Okay, I know, I’m sorry, Kyou. I’m just worried about you. You haven’t been acting the same at all. I mean, you literally almost knocked a guy’s teeth out because he was too close to me.”

“I’m the one who needs to apologize but my paranoia gets the better of me, Shigeru. I want you to be safe,” he nuzzled his face into Yahaba’s shoulder. 

“I know. Now come on. Let’s go get some nice clothes for the interview tomorrow, yeah? We want to make a good impression on them,” Yahaba stood from the couch, grabbing and pulling on his sweater from the side table. 

“Okay,” Kyoutani came to his feet, adjusting the bandage on his forehead before following Yahaba to the front door. They both slipped on their shoes and Yahaba left first, allowing Kyoutani to shut and lock the door as they made their way to the sidewalk.

A quick kiss to the lips later, Yahaba was leading him down the sidewalk. 

Even though he seemed calm on the outside, Kyoutani was actually on high alert, searching and scanning for any sorts of danger, ranging from cars about to run a red light and crash into them to people who look like they were about to commit a hit and run. He kept on jerking his eyes around until a kind hand on his own brought him back to reality.

“Kyou, calm down. I know you’re paranoid but nothing is going to happen, okay? Please focus on my hand and calm yourself,” he squeezed the digits reassuringly and heard Kyoutani exhale a breath.

“Okay, I’ll calm down.”

“Thank you, Kyou.”

They arrived at a clothing store, not too large but not too small. It was probably only about the size of their local grocery store. “Come on, Kyou. Let’s go find something for you first, okay? What are you thinking of?” Yahaba grasped his hand and began walking towards the men’s apparel section. 

“I don’t know but not a suit. I hate ties,” he snarled at the thought and Yahaba chuckled. 

“How about some nice slacks and a dress shirt, yeah? No tie,” he suggested, and Kyoutani nodded.

“Sounds good to me, I guess.”

“Alright,” he began searching for his own outfit whilst Kyoutani trailed right behind him. After a minute, Yahaba took Kyoutani’s hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles softly. “Nothing bad is going to happen right now, go ahead and relax and go find a dress shirt. I’ll be five feet away from you, Kyou.”

Reluctantly, Kyoutani released the hand and began looking on his own. He picked a few out over the course of the next ten minutes, thinking about asking Yahaba to decide for him.

He peeked around the corner of an aisle and spotted Yahaba taking glances at some fancy sweaters. He walked the couple strides over to him and poked his arm. “I can’t decide, Shigeru.”

“Oh? Well, let’s hold them up to you, shall we?” His lips quirked upwards as he grabbed the first shirt and held it up to Kyoutani’s chest. It was a simple deep purple, black buttons on the cuffs and down the chest. He hummed, hooking that hanger around his arm and moving onto the next. This one was creamy white with small black birds scattered across the expanse of the fabric.

Finally, a red and black vertically-striped shirt. He tapped his chin, giving each shirt a few more turns to bide his time for decision. “I say the red one. The black stripes match your hair.”

Kyoutani raised an eyebrow and was about to retort when Yahaba burst into laughter first. “Y-your face, Kyou!” He wheezed, giggling into Kyoutani’s chest by now. 

“Whatever,” he scoffed. “Have you picked something yet?”

“No, actually. Apparently my brain is deciding to be picky today,” he shrugged. “I do like this one, though,” he selected a dark green sweater from the rack. “I’d put a collared shirt underneath it, I’ve always liked the way those look.” 

“You’d look cute,” he mumbled, but Yahaba heard him and flushed a clean red.

“Well then, I guess I go with that, my dearest husband-to-be. Now the real question is,” he smirked. “I can’t decide,” he tilted his head up, giving Kyoutani a side glance. “Should I wear slacks or a skirt?”

Kyoutani immediately stole the blush from Yahaba’s cheeks and he began sputtering fragments of sentences. “Sla- ski- no- Shiga-”

Yahaba giggled cutely. “Black skirt it is, then.”

Kyoutani shifted on his feet, suddenly glancing between Yahaba and something strange that caught in the corner of his eye. “Hold on, Shigeru, you stay right here. I’ll be back in just a minute,” he patted Yahaba’s shoulder quickly before letting his feet take him to the general direction of the strange thing he noticed.

“Oh?” Yahaba shrugged, watching Kyoutani for a second then ignoring it and beginning to look for a collared shirt. But something didn’t sit right in his gut. He set the shirts in his hands onto the shelf by his left side, on top of a small stack of slacks. He followed Kyoutani, tiptoeing to not arouse the latter’s suspicion. 

There was a man walking down one of the aisles, a duffle bag in one hand and something hidden in the other. Kyoutani was cautiously stalking the man, looking as though he was studying the different labels of packaged snacks, arrayed in neat rows, separated by brand and flavor.

Yahaba gulped thickly in his throat, pressing his back against the end shelf, hiding from the two. His eyes went wide when he heard some footsteps come his way and he walked down another aisle and pretended to pick out some random drink from one of the shelves. 

The strange man passed him right by, and Kyoutani followed a minute later, yet didn’t even notice Yahaba. He exhaled a short breath and pressed a hand to his racing heart.

_ What is that man hiding under his sleeve? Why does he- _

Sudden realization spread through Yahaba’s mind and body.

_ He’s going to rob this store, and he has a gun. _

“Kyoutani… does he know? Is he going to try and stop him-” His stomach lurched, acid quickly making him nauseous. 

He scrambled to throw the drink back onto the shelf and hurried after Kyoutani.

His feet halted right then and there. The man was pointing his hand toward the woman at the register behind the cashier. 

Kyoutani was right behind the man.

The man had a gun.

And what really made Yahaba panic was this.

The man whipped around and pointed the gun straight between Kyoutani’s eyes. 

Yahaba clasped his hands over his mouth, stifling a whimper yet he could not do the same for the evident tears in his eyes. His feet took one hesitant step closer, then another and another until he was close enough to see the man’s finger on the trigger.

“Stand down and I may let you live,” he snarled, glaring down at Kyoutani through his now pulled-down mask.

“You think I’ll let you steal from this place? You may have a gun but I bet I could knock your teeth out with a single punch,” he challenged, eyes narrowing and teeth grinding together.

_ Kyoutani Kentarou you idiot! You absolute idiot! Back down, please back down! I don’t want you to die, please! _

Yahaba’s knuckles were shading white, face paling instantly once he realized Kyoutani was serious about hitting the man. His knees were giving out but once he gained enough nerve, he prepared himself.

Kyoutani felt the gun rest against his forehead, and he heard the cock of the trigger. It was ready and preparing to shoot right through his skull. The man, however, was clearly hesitating. Kyoutani wanted to take advantage of this hesitation, but then the man’s fingers curled around the trigger. 

There was no more waiting. 

He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, muscles tightening and relaxing in preparation for the bullet to his head. There came the soft wailing of police sirens, although only a faint whisper. The man didn’t seem to notice.

_ I can keep stalling. Police will get here then it’ll all be- _

There came a swift flash of light brown, then Kyoutani’s face suddenly kissed the smooth floor and a gunshot rang out, right into his ears making them ring. He screwed his eyes shut and covered his ears, then froze. There was no pain in his body, the only slight sting was in his cheek, being from slamming against the floor. Terror clouded his mind as he began to process what had just occurred. 

_ Wait. Who just took that bullet if it wasn’t me? _

The man’s hands shook with panic as soon as the police sirens crescendoed. The gun was dropped with a clank followed by a loud thump. Kyoutani uncovered his ears and shakily turned his head.

Eyes wide, face drained of color, hands twitching, Kyoutani felt numb. His heart hammered in his chest, ears screaming with the aftermath of the gunshot. But that wasn’t the only result of the bloodcurdling bang.

The one who had taken the hit was lying in a puddle of blood, the sticky red liquid draining from a hole in his chest.

“Shige… ru?”

The sirens whined, only about fifty yards from the entrance of the store parking lot, the distance closing rapidly as cars shifted to allow them passage along the road.

But that didn’t stop the bleeding.

“S-Shigeru, hey,” Kyoutani pulled himself towards the boy, then his hands splashed into the blood. “Hey, Shigeru!”

Gun and duffle bag forgotten, the man bolted from the scene.

But that didn’t stop the bleeding either.

“Baby baby please! Don’t leave!” He balled up his sweater and applied pressure to the wound. “Hey, police are coming, Shiga! You’ll be okay!”

“At least,” Yahaba breathed. “You’re safe, my dearest…” A moment of silence, then another quiet, raspy breath. 

“Husband… to-be…”

Kyoutani’s face scrunched up as his tears joined the pool of blood; the terribly familiar pool of blood. “No, please, damn you! Don’t leave me! I still want to-” He stopped, his words cut off with a sob.

Yahaba died with a smile on his face.

And Kyoutani couldn’t even begin to cease blaming himself. 

_ Crack. _

The man was caught sobbing behind a dumpster in an alleyway a couple blocks away from the store. He was arrested and sentenced to jail time for muder and attempted robbery.

But the criminal being behind iron bars didn’t bring Yahaba back.

Kyoutani was escorted to the police station for some questions, then he was driven home by an officer. He could hardly even focus on his hands. His eyes were still bleary with tears, even when he entered his house and sat on the couch. There were calls and texts flooding his phone, most all from the team, yet he ignored them. 

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but a knock on his front door alerted him to check the hour. It was nearing five in the evening and the text count was over one hundred unread messages, as well as at least forty missed calls.

He lumbered to the front door, opening it to reveal two people. One had puffy, bloodshot eyes while the other was trying to comfort the first. 

“A-a-are- Yaha- Kyou-” Oikawa just broke down into Iwaizumi’s arms.

“Kyoutani, we came to check on you to make sure you weren’t… hurting yourself,” he fumbled with his words a little, then looked up into Kyoutani’s wide eyes, studying his still-pale face. 

“I just got the only person to ever love and understand me killed.” His voice was strained from holding back his tears. “I just got him shot, Iwaizumi-san. I’ve killed him.”

“Kyoutani, you didn’t-”

“I did. I should have known he wouldn’t listen to me,” he stepped aside to let Oikawa and Iwaizumi in. “Go on inside, I can… I can-”

“You don’t have to do anything, Kyoutani. Go sit with Oikawa and calm down,” Iwaizumi stepped in, gently hushing Oikawa as they made for the living room. 

Oikawa sat on the couch, and Iwaizumi beckoned for Kyoutani to sit beside him whilst the older went into the kitchen to get some water for each of them.

He came back to see Oikawa hugging Kyoutani close, hands gripping his unsteady body tightly. Iwaizumi placed the glasses onto the side table and sat next to Oikawa, landing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing the fabric.

“Kyoutani, there’s a cake in the fridge. Were you two going to celebrate something?” Iwaizumi whispered, then regretted mentioning it once Kyoutani’s body twitched.

“I forgot,” he muttered. “It’s my birthday today. I was so focused on preparing for the future that I forgot about my birthday. But he didn’t. Of course he didn’t.”

A moment of quiet. “Please… Please forgive me, Oikawa-san, Iwaizumi-san,” Kyoutani forced his face even deeper into Oikawa’s shoulder. “I just killed Shigeru.”

It had been a week. Kyoutani never left his house. Oikawa and Iwaizumi understood his agony yet could never coax the boy out. They had to buy groceries for him because he just didn’t leave. 

On the morning of the seventh day, Kyoutani awoke to cold sheets, just like all the other days. He bit his lip, rolling over and smashing his face into the pillow. But just then, his hands felt warm and sticky. His eyes shot wide and he shoved himself up onto his knees, then saw the blood on his hands.

He screamed at his hands, clenching his eyes shut and began to sob. “I’m so sorry, Shigeru! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” he wailed, the cries racking his body. He collapsed, allowing his tears to overtake him.

_ You wanted to do the right thing, Kyou. I know that. _

“Shigeru, please,” he sniffled. “Please don’t tell me those lies. I know this is just in my head, please just go.”

_ Alright, Kyou. I understand. But I know you’ve been thinking about this; look under the stairs. Sure the note I left said not to, but that was for before your birthday. _

“I don’t know if I’m strong enough, Shigeru,” he whimpered. 

_ Please. It’s your birthday present, Kyoutani. _

“Alright, okay, I’ll take a look,” he closed his eyes, imagining Yahaba standing to kiss his forehead then walk downstairs into the kitchen. 

But it was all fake, all just in Kyoutani’s head. There would be no breakfast on the table for him, there would be no brunette in the kitchen waiting for him to come down and eat. There would be no smiling face to greet him in the morning. He was alone in the house and he had never felt so weak.

Kyoutani came to his feet, dragging them as he forced himself down the stairs. He turned on the hardwood, facing the door to the closet under the stairs. He reached his hand to the knob, gently turning it then with a sudden burst of anger, he yanked the door open.

There stood a tall punching bag, gloves dangling from the handles near the top. There was a note taped to the front, and Kyoutani took a few steps closer to read it. 

‘It’s already filled with sand, Kyou! Feel free to take it out and release all your anger! Love, your wife-to-be’

He stared in disbelief, tears forming and falling from the corners of his eyes. “Shigeru… bought this for me? So this is why he told me to practice later,” he whipped at his tears, then looked at the droplets littering his fingertips. “He’s always looking for ways to keep my anger in check.”

He began pulling the punching bag out of the closet, dragging it across the floor to a corner in the living room. He slipped the gloves on and stood defensively, then swung a couple punches at it, all from different angles. The pillar swayed from side-to-side but didn’t fall, thanks to the sand weighing down the bottom. He took more swings at it until he felt like his knuckles were on fire. 

He ceased the hits, then sank onto the couch to catch his break and wipe his sweat. It had been an hour since he found the punching bag and he had a feeling he’d be using until it broke, whenever that may be. 

So that became his daily routine. He woke up at around seven in the morning, ate a small portion for breakfast, then spent practically the entire day slamming his fists into that punching bag. He imagined it as the people he hated, he imagined it as a wall, but he mostly imagined it as either himself or the man that shot the love of his life.

But then there came something that broke his schedule. 

The funeral.

All of the negative buildup in his heart, the thoughts of the impossible future, the life he could only dream about living all rushed into his mind at once during the funeral. Now that all of these components came along, Kyoutani couldn’t even find motivation to get out of bed. 

Eventually, his stomach ceased the calls for food.

But the agony in his heart doubled and there was a voice in his head, slick and evil. It spoke to him when he was at his weakest points, mostly right after he awoke and before he fell asleep. At this very moment, Kyoutani had just woken up and the voice was already causing him headache.

‘You know, I don’t understand why you don’t just die already. Yahaba’s gone so you have nothing left to live for, Kyoutani! Just go with the flow and die. No one will miss you, and you know it.’

Kyoutani rolled onto his side trying desperately to ignore these annoyances. However, he knew these annoyances were shifting and becoming truth. 

_ No one would miss me, I know that. Iwaizumi-san and Oikawa-san pretend to care, but they only loved Shigeru. And Shigeru loved me, that was all. Now that he’s gone, what reason do I have to keep living?  _ He clenched the blankets in his fists.  _ No. I can’t die. Shigeru wouldn’t forgive me. I’ll just have to wait until death comes for me. _

He sat up, sighing. “Guess I’d better go eat something.” He staggered to the doorway, holding onto the doorframe as his knees buckled and unbuckled, adjusting to the sudden gesture of standing up. “Shigeru wouldn’t want to see me like this, so I’ll just-” 

He choked on his own words. He couldn’t finish the sentence, so he decided not to even try.

But his somewhat composed attitude shattered the moment he stepped into the kitchen. Fond memories flooded his waking mind, all ranging between a lazy morning when Kyoutani made pancakes whilst Yahaba was still asleep to whenever Yahaba cooked dinner and Kyoutani hugged him the entire time. He could still feel those soft lips against his cheek, yet it was so distant and out of reach that Kyoutani’s hand shot forward in a futile attempt to snatch those feelings back. 

Instead, his hand just reached the counter and he stumbled forward to catch himself. Just then, his fingers slipped down and the drawer beneath them slid open, revealing the one thing he didn’t want to see; shiny silver reflecting his pained expression back at him. 

The black handles were sleek, newly washed but haven’t been used since before that day. Kyoutani slammed the drawer shut and stormed to the fridge, yanking it open and grabbing the nearest item, which was some take-out that Iwaizumi and Oikawa had bought for him the day before. He fumbled for some chopsticks and didn’t even bother to heat the food up before he was angrily shoveling the noodles into his mouth. Tears were spilling down his face as he ate, and he sank against the fridge, allowing himself to cry.

_ I’m sorry, Shigeru. I don’t know how much longer I can keep myself sane. Or safe. _

It took just three more days for Kyoutani to shatter. He didn’t even bother to clean the blood from the floor or the knife until the day after. He couldn’t understand how the slits on his wrists made the pain inside go away a little. With every drop of crimson blood, Kyoutani felt a sliver of grief and guilt slip away.

He unwrapped the bloodied bandages to reveal his scratched and scarred wrists. He sighed, hiding them with fresh bandages. “Not today.” 

Instead, he decided to reheat some chow mein and eat that for dinner. It had only been two days since the marks on his wrists began, but Kyoutani already noticed the changes. He was angrier yet weaker, his punches didn’t rock the punching bag like they used to, and his wrists hurt twice as more with every slack hit. He was losing weight, appetite stolen by the urge to slide that shining silver across his skin.

He felt disgusted with himself, yet could never find the motives to stop. 

And just like he expected, Iwaizumi and Oikawa didn’t even notice. They didn’t see the change in attire, short sleeves to long sleeves and hoodies, nor did they notice the weight loss and pale shading across his face. He truly wondered if they even cared enough to try and notice. 

He decided that they didn’t and moved on. 

There was a new schedule, now. Until there came another rock in the road. Kyoutani had gotten sick from the bloodloss. The sickness unveiled itself at the worst possible time as well.

Iwaizumi had just handed Kyoutani a plastic bag filled with the groceries for the day, Oikawa hanging onto his arm. 

“Thanks, Iwaizumi-san,” Kyoutani mumbled, sighing as he took the bag into his weak hands. He felt a shoot of fire through his arm and his eyes widened, an involuntary whimper escaping his lips. He froze in place as he knew Iwaizumi’s and Oikawa’s eyes were on him.

“Kyoutani? What’s wrong?” Oikawa was the first to speak.

“My wrists are just bruised, I’ve been using the punching bag that Shigeru got me,” he spouted out in a clear rush. 

“No, it’s something else,” Iwaizumi narrowed his gaze. “You’re pale, Kyoutani. Show me your arms.”

“What? Why?” Kyoutani began to panic, it was evident and poorly hidden.

“Kyoutani. Your. Arms.” It was not a request. 

But just as he was about to reveal his arms, Kyoutani noticed himself getting lightheaded. The plastic bag dropped and his vision blurred. His knees failed him and Kyoutani fell forwards. Oikawa yelped as Iwaizumi ducked to catch him, holding his limp body tightly, then he could feel the lumps underneath his sleeves. “Tooru, get the car ready. Right fucking now.”

Oikawa nodded vigorously and yanked his keys from his pocket, almost dropping them a few times as his unsteady hands. “Iwa-chan, what’s wrong with him?” he cried.

“Tooru, his wrists are covered in bandages,” Iwaizumi pulled up Kyoutani’s sleeves, gesturing to the blooding wrappings.

Oikawa let out a sob and dropped the keys. In a panic, he snatched the keys back up and hurried to the car, with Iwaizumi carrying an unconscious Kyoutani right behind him. The drive was silent, the only noise was Oikawa’s occasional hiccups and sniffles. 

“Hey, Tooru, calm down. He’ll be okay, alright?” Iwaizumi sighed from the driver’s seat. He reached for and grasped Oikawa’s hand. “It’ll be okay, we just have to check and see how much blood he has lost, then the doctors will take it from there. Please, calm down. I don’t want you to panic even more.”

“I just-” Oikawa covered his eyes and began to sob again. “I don’t want to lose him too!” Iwaizumi’s breath hitched, but Oikawa continued. “He just lost Yahaba, Hajime! We  _ all  _ just lost Yahaba! I don’t want to lose him too because he can’t let go!”

“I know, Tooru, I know,” he sighed, shaking his own small tears away. “I wouldn’t be able to take it either. Once we know Kyoutani is safely admitted, I know you’re going to want to talk so we’ll talk in the car, okay? We’ll just sit and talk. How does that sound?”

The chocolate haired boy just nodded as a response, dipping his head into his arms and attempting to dry his new layer of tears. They reached the hospital in silence.

About an hour later, Oikawa and Iwaizumi were back in the car, sitting in the backseat, curled up in each other’s embrace. “Let it all out, Tooru. I’m listening.”

Oikawa inhaled a short breath, burying his face into Iwaizumi’s shoulder. “Yahaba looked up to me, you know? He looked up to me as a senpai, a captain, a fellow setter, and as a friend. I loved him so much, Hajime! I wanted to protect him from the world because he was just such a pure-hearted boy. When he started dating Kyoutani, I was worried for a little bit. But then I saw how much Kyoutani cared for him. Hell, Kyoutani even jumped to save him when a car almost hit him!” Oikawa’s fingers tightened on Iwaizumi’s sleeve. “I took Kyoutani to the side during practice once, and I told him that I trusted him to take care of Yahaba.”

A moment of silence, and Iwaizumi was about to speak before Oikawa opened his mouth again. “Iwa-chan, he promised me that he would always put his life on the line for Yahaba, that he would never let him get hurt.” His eyes screwed shut and his breath quickened. “Hajime, why do I blame myself?!”

Iwaizumi was beyond shocked. He never truly knew how deep Oikawa’s love for his underclassman ran. His eyes became hooded as the chocolate haired boy’s inhales fluttered. “I can’t even start to understand how much pain Kyoutani is in, but I just can’t stop thinking. What would have happened if I just held onto Yahaba for a little while longer? What would have happened if I still had him closer to me? He was like a kid brother to me, Hajime. He meant so much and now he’s gone!”

Iwaizumi caressed the brown locks that flopped over his chest. “I don’t know what would have happened if you stayed with him, Tooru. I have no idea what would have happened if so many things happened or didn’t. But what we need to do is be there for Kyoutani. He needs people by his side, Tooru. We can be upset, we can grieve, but none of that will bring him back. I know how you feel, I’m terrified as well. As someone who’s always been challenged by Kyoutani, I’ve spent a fair amount of time with him. He’s so much different under the surface. He acts all angry and tough all the time but he’s so much more kind and caring once he opens up. But he lost the one person who he opens up to the most, and he needs support.” His lungs shuddered with the threat of a few more raindrops down his face. 

“I know it hurts, Tooru. Believe me, I’ve wanted to fight and scream and demand why life is this way. I’ve wanted to so many times ever since that day. I’ve even wanted to go to that prison and show that man how it feels to get shot in the chest. I’ve wished that I could exchange anything for him to come back because I know Kyoutani needs him more than oxygen. Yahaba was Kyoutani’s only will to live, and now he’s gone. So now we need to help him find another will to live or else…” He gritted his teeth harshly, clicking his tongue and exhaling an aggressive sigh. “Please, Tooru. Please help me.”

Oikawa nodded twice, taking in Iwaizumi’s scent to calm himself. “I don’t want him to go.”

“Me neither, Tooru. So, let’s go see if he’s ready to be visited. I know he needs anything we can offer him.”

“Mh-hm,” Oikawa grabbed some tissues, blowing his nose and wiping his face before watching Iwaizumi do the same. Once they were both cleaned up, they made for the hospital entrance once again.

Kyoutani felt so drowsy and weak as he awoke. His half-lidded eyes shifted to look at his arm.  _ An IV? Where am I? What happened? _

His gaze finally landed on two blurry figures by his bedside. He noticed brown hair and his heart sped up, visible on the machine. “Shigeru!”

The voice that spoke was not Yahaba. “Kyoutani, he’s not here.”

“Oh.” He faced the ceiling. “I guess he’s not.”

Just as silence was about to overtake the room, Iwaizumi cleared his throat. “Kyoutani, explain your wrists.”

That made him shoot up and study his surroundings. “What the- When did I get here?! Take me home, right now!” he glared at Iwaizumi and Oikawa, but neither of them budged. “Take. Me. Home.”

“Kyoutani.” Iwaizumi’s voice did not falter.

The younger flinched, then his shoulders shook in either fury or tears. The olders couldn’t depict which one until Kyoutani spoke. “Fine.” Anger. “Simple as this, it makes the pain inside that the punching bag can’t release go away.”

Oikawa took a short centimeter back in surprise and a hint of fear. “Why, Kyoutani? Why can’t you talk to people instead of jumping to hurting yourself?” he asked shakily.

“There’s no one else who would even listen. Shigeru was the only one. Now he’s gone, so I’m never going to let myself get attached to anyone else ever again.” His tone was short and annoyed. He was done trying to explain himself, he was done with people claiming they could help him, that they could talk to him, he was just so exhausted of it all. “Please, leave. I don’t want to talk.”

“Kyoutani-”

“Tooru, it’s okay. Give him some time,” Iwaizumi stood. “You’re staying here for a few days, Kyoutani. You’ve lost too much blood and too much weight. Stay healthy. Not just for you, but for Yahaba too. There's a reason he was the one shot that day.”

Kyoutani tensed at the words. “Shut the fuck up. You have no right to mention that.”

He led Oikawa to the door, then flashed one more glance back at the boy. “You know exactly why Yahaba saved you. Don’t disregard his sacrifice, Kyoutani. If you die, his decision would have meant nothing.”

“I said shut up!” Kyoutani yelled as Iwaizumi pulled Oikawa from the hospital room.  _ Please, shut up! Because I know you’re right! _

He stared down at his bandaged arms, the IV needle dripping blood into his system. “Shigeru wouldn’t like to see this. He never wanted me to get hurt. He always wanted me safe. That’s why he-” he choked on those words. “I can’t say it.” He clenched his fists. “I’m going to try and live. I’ll try just for you, Shigeru. I’ll try my hardest for you.”

And before Kyoutani rolled over to fall back asleep, he swore he heard Yahaba whisper in his ear.  _ Thank you, my dearest husband-to-be. _

_ Kyoutani’s eyes flashed open. Someone was giggling beside him, a child. He looked downwards and there was a very familiar mop of brown hair. “Shigeru!” _

_ “Kyou! Come on! Let’s go get ice cream!” Yahaba grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the truck on the side of the road.  _

_ “Shigeru! Wait up!” Kyoutani called, his voice and body shifting back to when he was a child, maybe about five or six. “Shiga, slow down!” _

_ Another giggle and Yahaba was holding up a five dollar bill to the ice cream man. “I’ll take chocolate, and he wants cookies and cream, please!” _

_ “Here you too boys go, enjoy your day,” the man handed them their cones in exchange for the bill. _

_ “Thank you, mister!” Yahaba licked some of the melting chocolate from the cone. “Can I try yours, Kyou?” _

_ “Oh, mh-hm,” Kyoutani took a small bite of the frozen treat before handing it to Yahaba. “Can I taste yours?” _

_ “Yeah, let’s trade!” Yahaba grinned. “Here,” he switched their cones before digging right in. “It’s good, Kyou!” _

_ Kyoutani watched as his friend took another lick from the cone before taking his own bite of the ice cream in his hand. The cold sank into his teeth, rushing up to his brain and causing him to groan. “Brain freeze,” he explained quickly to the curious Yahaba. _

_ Yahaba chuckled, then led Kyoutani to a sunny spot on the grass. “Sit, Kyou, sit.” He complied, sitting down, then felt Yahaba’s arms wrap around him, hugging his head to his chest. “I’ll warm you up, don’t you worry!” _

_ Kyoutani didn’t think anything of it since this was normal, but as soon as he leaned backwards into Yahaba, the brunette disappeared. The sunshine, the ice cream, the shrill laughter of children all ceased to exist. His eyes widened, and he scrambled to his feet.  _

_ “Shiga? Shigeru, where’d you go?!” Kyoutani yelled, turning in circle after circle, frantically searching for the boy. _

_ “Please… help me,” Yahaba’s weak voice called from the ground just a few feet away from Kyoutani.  _

_ He bolted to the scene, then his feet splashed in something familiar. Blood, and it was pooling at abnormal speeds. _

_ “Help me, Kyou. Save me. Please, the blood, it’s too much. I’ve lost too much. I’m going to die, Kyoutani. I’m going to die.” _

_ “Shigeru, please stop! You’ve already died! I understand that, and I know you want me to live but please stop it!” Kyoutani fell to his knees, dirtying his jeans with the gathering blood. _

_ “I want you to do more than just live, Kyoutani Kentarou. I want you to thrive, okay? I saved your life so you could thrive, not wallow in self pity for my decision. So stand up, get healed, and go back home. And for the love of God, accept Oikawa-senpai and Iwaizumi-senpai’s help. They want to help you, to save you, just like how I did, Kyou,” Yahaba tilted his head up by his chin. He smiled sadly. “I’m sorry, my dearest husband-to-be. I wish things were different. But I love you, and I always will, no matter what happens.” He kissed Kyoutani’s lips, both of their faces damp with tears. _

_ “Mh-hm,” Kyoutani hummed into the kiss, brokenness dripping throughout his voice as he pulled back an inch to say, “I love you too, Shiga, I love you too but please don’t leave me again.” _

_ “I’m sorry, Kyou. But that’s just how things are now. Live on for me, okay?” Yahaba planted another small kiss on Kyoutani’s quivering lips. “Please, understand that Iwaizumi and Oikawa want you to know that they care. They want to help you. Let them.” _

_ “Okay, Shiga. I’ll try. But-” _

_ “No buts, Kyou,” Yahaba poked his nose. “Just go on. I know it’ll take some time, but try your best.” _

_ “I’ll try my best for you, Shiga, I promise.” _

_ “Great to hear. Now, wake up and eat a healthy breakfast. I’ll always be here,” he nuzzled his head against Kyoutani’s heart, right above his chest. _

_ “Yeah, you’ll always be here,” he hugged Yahaba’s body tightly as he awoke. _

He slowly sat up, touching a hand to his forehead. He sighed, checking the time on the clock to his right. “Ten in the morning, huh? Well, might as well do what Shigeru asked.” He pressed the call button on his remote, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“Yes?” a nurse poked her head into the doorway a few moments later. “Need anything, Kyoutani-kun?”

“Mmn, breakfast,” he opened one eye towards her. “Please.”

“Of course, what would you like?” she smiled towards him.

He thought for a second, then opened up to speak. “Just some omelet rice, I guess.”

“Alright, and anything you want to drink?” 

“Just water is fine, thank you,” he fiddled with his fingers.

“Of course,” she bowed her head to Kyoutani before turning around and started down the hallway.

Kyoutani reached his arm out, grasping onto his phone before pulling it into his lap, wincing at the slight pain in his arms. He clicked on a contact, then shook his head and moved from that screen. He wasn’t ready to talk with Iwaizumi just yet.

The nurse came back with his food, smiling as she set up a lap table for Kyoutani. “If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to call me in, Kyoutani-kun.”

“Mh-hm, thanks,” he mumbled, picking up his chopsticks and muttering a quick “Thank you for the food” before taking a bite. She bowed towards him before exiting the room, quietly sliding the door into place. 

He ate in blissful silence. It was blissful, yet lonely. He liked sitting in the quiet, alone with his thoughts, but that was the problem. He was… alone. The curtains were drawn, allowing the blinding rays of winter sunlight to flood the room. He squinted to see a small blanket of snow covering the seeable ground from his perch in bed. “Shigeru loved the snow when we were kids. Always made an effort to make the best and biggest snowman.” He chuckled. “I miss those times.”

He leaned his head back, tilting it to see his arms. “I’m a mess. But, Shigeru always managed to keep me in check.” Kyoutani finished eating his breakfast, placing the bowl on the side tablet as well as the lap table. He curled up on his side, closing his eyes and only wishing for Yahaba to be there, right next to him, holding his hand, hugging him tight, whispering in his ear, but there was nothing. The gentle caress of those familiar fingers was nowhere to be found. That soft and caring voice was hushed, non-existent. 

He couldn’t take it.

So, Kyoutani pulled up his contacts and called Iwaizumi. Once the older picked up, Kyoutani inhaled deeply, mentally preparing himself for the words he needed to say.

“Kyoutani?” Iwaizumi asked from the other line. “You okay?”

“I-I,” he bit his bottom lip anxiously. “I want to talk, now.”

“Alright. I’ll come by soon, Kyoutani. Just me, I’m guessing?” Some shuffling came from Iwaizumi’s side, then quiet footsteps.

“Yeah, please,” his fingers tensed in his palm. “Thank you.”

Iwaizumi’s line went quiet for a moment, only soft whispers were barely audible, then he spoke up again. “Of course, Kyoutani. I’m here to help, okay?”

A moment of dead air on the phone. “Okay.”

Iwaizumi hung up after a second and Kyoutani rolled onto his back. “Okay, Shigeru. I’ll talk to him, but what next? What do you want me to do next?”

He chuckled painfully at the lack of words from his wife-to-be. “I know, it was a longshot. I just want to hear your voice again, Shiga. I do, I really do.” A few heartbeats passed and Kyoutani sighed. “Someday, though. I know I’ll see you again.”

He withstood that unbearable silence for twenty more minutes until a rap on the door alerted him that someone had arrived. “Come in,” he called, sitting up, situating himself criss-cross on his bed. He fiddled with his thumbs as Iwaizumi entered, taking the seat on Kyoutani’s right side. 

“I won’t talk much, I’ll just listen, okay?” Iwaizumi clasped his hands together, leaning forward a little in his seat to focus on Kyoutani’s words.

“I miss him. He was my only escape and now he’s gone. I had been having these nightmares about him dying, and I was so paranoid that when that man came into the store, I wanted to get him out as soon as possible because I knew Shigeru would do it himself,” he picked at the cuticles of skin on his finger. “That’s just the kind of person he is-” His lips flattened into a thin line. “Was.”

Iwaizumi nodded at him to continue, and Kyoutani’s shoulders began to shake. “My dad drove my mother out and hurt me. He’s been overseas for at least six years now, only paying the rent and sending small checks for food every few weeks. Shigeru was my only escape throughout my entire life. We met when I was four when our mothers were good friends. From that point on, all I needed was Shigeru, all I wanted was Shigeru. I fell in love with him when I was twelve but I never showed it because… my father beat me for even saying his name.”

The older tensed in his seat, fingers twitching in aggravation. Yet he did not speak. “Shigeru’s gone now and I have nothing. There’s nothing for me, Iwaizumi. He was all I lived for and I don’t know what to do now.” The bedsheets were now wet with raindrops, sprouting and flowering into jagged splotches. 

Iwaizumi inhaled calmly. “Kyoutani, I know you’re hurting so much more than Oikawa or I, but I want you to know something. I want to help you, not hurt or leave you. I want you to trust me when I say that I truly want you to live your best life. Yes, Yahaba is gone but that doesn’t mean you still can’t live for the both of you.” 

The younger knew and understood that Iwaizumi was right. He knew, but just couldn’t accept the action of moving on. He didn’t want to move on, to possibly forget Yahaba. It was impossible to forget and completely move on from the one and only person who loved him. He didn’t want to live without a reason, yet he knew there wouldn’t ever be a good enough reason as Yahaba to continue living so he was already at a loss.

“Okay.” Was all he said in response.

“Do you want to talk more, Kyoutani? Because I’m always going to be here,” Iwaizumi offered, eyes caring and kind. 

“I don’t want to talk anymore,” he crossed his arms, rubbing them in an attempt to keep himself calm. “I know I’d just explode if I keep talking about that.”

“Well, what do you want to do?” Iwaizumi suddenly smirked at an idea. “Why don’t you challenge me?”

“Challenge you to what? I can’t do much,” he shrugged. “And there really isn’t much to do in the hospital.”

“Never thought I’d see the day where Kyoutani Kentarou is turning down a challenge,” Iwaizumi pressed his back against the chair. 

“You know what, go find something. I’ll beat you at it!” Kyoutani’s eyes shone with newfound determination. “I’ll crush you!”

“Alright then. I’ll go find something at home and I’ll be back soon, alright?” Iwaizumi stood, gently patting Kyoutani’s shoulder. 

“Okay!”

Iwaizumi left the hospital room with a smile of relief.  _ Good, he seems to be getting better already. Thank God. _

When he got home, Oikawa was slumping in the kitchen, slinking around like a salted slug. He was whining and groaning, clearly still exhausted. 

“Kawa, what in the absolute fuck are you doing?” he raised an eyebrow at the chocolate haired male. 

“I’m tired, Iwa-chan! But I want food! Can you make me something?” he looked up, using his pleading eyes at him.

“No, I’m going to be with Kyoutani today,” he crossed his arms, then entered the living room, checking for any sort of game they’d be able to play. “Pfft, what if I bring him chess?”

“Wait, Kyoutani’s talking to you?” Oikawa suddenly sat up, head tilted and eyes wide. 

“Yeah. He called me when you were still half asleep and I’ve come home to get something to cheer him up with,” he grabbed up a few board games. “Think you can manage being alone for a few hours, Kawa?”

“If it’s for Kyoutani, yes, I can manage,” he nodded. “Is there anything I can do?”

“I don’t know, Kawa. I guess we’ll see if he needs anything,” he reached the kitchen, knelt down, and planted a kiss on Oikawa’s forehead. “Call if you need anything, okay?”

“I will.”

Kyoutani didn’t talk about Yahaba for the next few days, not until he was released from the hospital. At the time, Iwaizumi was driving him home, and the car was quiet for the first five minutes of the drive. Then Kyoutani decided to open his mouth.

“I’m going to stop hurting myself, and you won’t have to buy groceries for me anymore. I know Shigeru’s going to keep bothering me until I start taking care of myself,” he leaned his elbow against the car door, his head resting its weight on the palm of his hand.

“Do you dream of him?”

“Yeah, almost every night. But he’s been stronger ever since the first night in the hospital,” he explained. “So I’m really going to try again for him.”

“I’m glad, Kyoutani. Because I don’t ever want to take you to the hospital again,” Iwaizumi exhaled. 

“I can understand that,” his fingers tapped at his chin, forearms slightly aching but he ignored the dull pain. 

“I’ll still come by to check on you every so often, alright?”

“Okay.”

And the rest of the drive was filled with the quiet stereo music. Once they reached his house, Kyoutani thanked Iwaizumi once again and exited the car. He carried his small bag of packed items Iwaizumi had brought him to his front door, but just as he was about to put the key in, he realized the door was slightly ajar. Panicking, Kyoutani slowly eased the door open a few more inches, just enough for him to squeeze through.

He heard heavy footsteps pacing between the living room and kitchen, then a deep, angry, loud, yet all too familiar voice.

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN HE’S STILL ALIVE?!”

Kyoutani’s heart stopped abruptly.  _ What the hell does that mean? _

“I sent him out ALMOST THREE WEEKS AGO and I’m JUST NOW learning that the one single target I sent him to eliminate IS STILL ALIVE?! It was such a simple task! Oh? He was arrested too? WELL HOW IS THAT SUPPOSED TO FIX THIS?! Sure, he went to the hospital, yes yes I got the bill for that right in my fucking hand. That little brat has been released today. Wait, you mean he  _ did  _ kill someone that day? A different boy? One with brown hair? Oh well, it can’t be helped that he’s a failure of a hitman. I’d better take care of the little brat myself, then. He’s probably weak from being in the hospital. Yes, of course I can handle killing my own son. What? You think I can’t? Get the fuck over here and watch me, I’ll show I can kill him easily. Ha, whatever. He should be here any minute now. I’m sure one of his volleyball pals is driving him home. I’ll be here until I decide that I am satisfied, but in two days I expect that my delivery is here or else there will be hell to pay,” the man inside the house snapped, slamming his phone onto the table.

“D-dad..?” Kyoutani whimpered from the doorstep. “Wh-what do you mean? Were you trying to kill me that day? Are you saying that robber was sent to kill me? So Shigeru died for nothing?!”

“Shit.”

“What do you mean?! WHAT WAS THAT ALL ABOUT?!” he demanded, taking one daring step into the house. 

“You idiotic boy, you’re such a hindrance. If only that boy hadn’t saved you, all of this could have been avoided,” the man growled, dragging a hand down his face.

Kyoutani’s hands shook with fear and fury. “So, you mean to say that Shigeru was killed when you were truly aiming for me?”

“Are you dense?! Yes, of course!” the man roared. “It’s not like I can’t kill you at the drop of a hat, but because of your pathetic insolence, I’m not going to make it that easy for you. Well, I’m going to be staying in this house until the deed is done, so go fuck off to someone else’s for a little while.” He huffed, glowering down at his son.

“W-what are you going to do?” Kyoutani gripped his bag tightly, wishing he could only be a million miles away from this man. “Who are you going to hurt?!” His voice cracked and he felt tears prick his eyes.

“Oh, you’ll see. You’ll certainly see, my little boy,” he stalked towards the petrified boy, grinning wickedly. “Now, I’m going to the store for a while, go back your stuff and get the fuck out of my house.”

Kyoutani’s throat made a strangled noise of fear before he nodded vigorously. His father patted his shoulder, fingernails piercing his skin. “Wonderful. Bye bye, now.”

Once the front door was slammed shut, Kyoutani waited a couple minutes before letting out an enraged and terrified scream. Memories of his childhood were flooding in, overtaking the thoughts about calming himself. Yahaba’s voice was drowned out by the screams and cries of his younger self. His legs failed him, making him fall to the floor. He caught himself with his arms, yet pain shot up and down his body. He began to sob, curling in on himself. He struggled to find his phone, clicking on any random contact he could find. 

“Kyoutani? Why are you calling me?” a voice asked after the phone rang for a couple seconds. He couldn’t answer, so all the other line heard was his pained cries. “Whoa, Kyoutani! Calm down, I’m coming. You’re at home, yeah?”

“Mh-h-hm,” he hardly managed.

“I’m on my way right now, hold on,” they didn’t hang up as they hurried throughout their house. “Makki, come on, something’s wrong with Kyoutani!”

Some muffled shouting of panic, and Kyoutani covered his ears, scooting away from his phone, which he had tossed onto the ground by his head.

“Kyoutani, take deep breaths, okay? Everything will be alright, it’s going to be okay,” Matsukawa demonstrated through the phone, but Kyoutani couldn’t follow. 

All he could focus on was the thundering booms of his father, his footsteps, his bellows, his punches and slaps. 

“ _ Kentarou, you’d better open this door right fucking now!” _

_ “No! I know you’re just gonna hurt me again!” Kyoutani cried, pressing his back against his wall, watching the locked door knob jiggle. “Please, I just want to go see Shigeru!” _

_ “I thought I told you what would happen if you said that boy’s name in this house!” A bounding on the door, then silence. After a minute of agonizing quiet, there was a loud clank and the door burst open. “You know what happens when you speak of that boy. Now, you’ll face the consequences of your insolence!” _

_ “No! Leave me alone, please! I don’t wanna get hurt! Dad, please!” Kyoutani sobbed. However, his cries were soon replaced by exclaims of pain and high-pitched shrieks.  _

_ After about thirty minutes, Kyoutani was left alone, bleeding from cuts, sitting in the corner of his room. He received no medical attention except for bandages that he applied himself. He cried until he passed out from exhaustion with no blanket, no pillow, just the cold, rough wall of his bedroom. The broken knob lay by the wide open door. Kyoutani never felt so alone. _

The doorbell rang and it started Kyoutani to his knees, scrambling backwards until he saw Matsukawa’s curls in the window. He shakily stood, wiping at his face as he cracked the door ajar. He stepped back, widening the gap until he could see both Matsukawa and Hanamaki. 

“Kyoutani! Are you okay?” Matsukawa immediately asked, worry in his eyes. 

“N-no,” he leaned forward, his forehead knocking against and resting on Matsukawa’s shoulder. “H-he’s back, and he said he’s going to ki-kill me.”

“Who? What do you mean?” Hanamaki’s hand reached out to hold Matsukawa’s upper arm.

“My father, he se-sent someone to kill me but they killed Shigeru instead. He’s trying to kill me, he’s going to kill me, he killed Shigeru because he was trying to kill me,” Kyoutani’s breath quickened. “I-I have to pack, I have to leave here because he’s going to be here.”

“Slow down, first. Let’s go sit down, get you some water, and we’ll help you pack. Who are you going to stay with?” Matsukawa wrapped an arm around Kyoutani, helping him to hobble to the dining room. He sat him down at the table, signalling for Hanamaki to get him a glass of water.

“I-I-I don’t know, maybe Iwaizumi-san, yeah Iwaizumi-san,” he fumbled around, searching for something with his hands. “Phone, where’s my phone?”

“It’s still by the front door, but let me call Iwaizumi. You just need to focus on calming down. No one is going to kill you, and your father isn’t going to hurt you anymore. You’ll be safe, I promise,” he pulled out his own device, quickly dialing the other third year. 

Some voices were talking on the other line before Matsukawa began to speak. “Iwaizumi, I know you’ve been super busy with Kyoutani and such, but something else came up, and he needs to find a place to stay… something about his father… I’ll fill in the details later, it’s too much to explain over the phone… Mh-hm, he wants to stay with you… he called me, he was probably having a panic attack… alright, we can drop him off. See you soon.” He hung up, gently placing his phone face down on the counter. 

He lifted one arm and Kyoutani sank into his side, biting his lip harsh enough to bleed. Hanamaki handed him the water and watched as it shaded slightly red, tinted with the blood from Kyoutani’s mouth. He stood beside Matsukawa, taking his hand reassuringly as the latter hugged the younger boy. “It’s going to be okay, just keep trying to calm down. We’ll protect you, Kyoutani.”

He nodded once, sticking his head on Matsukawa’s shoulder but staying doormat. He began shaking, burying his face into the older’s neck, quietly crying as more memories decided to overthrow his composure. “Makki, can you get some bags ready for Kyoutani?”

“Yeah, I can,” Hanamaki’s footsteps disappeared upstairs. 

“Come on, finish the water and we’ll pack then get you to Iwaizumi’s place. There, we’ll call the police and see what they can do,” he watched as Kyoutani took a drink of the water as a response. “Everything is going to be okay, Kyoutani.”

“Mh-hm, mh-hm, mh-hm, it’s gonna be fi-fine,” he muttered into the cup, taking more sips of the pink-ish liquid. He frowned at the iron taste of blood in his water, but finished off the glass anyways. 

A few sudden thumps came from the stairwell, and Hanamaki stumbled down the stairs, avoiding the duffle bags he had tossed to the landing. “Alright, whenever you’re ready, we’re leaving,” he huffed, picking them up by the straps.

Kyoutani thought for a moment, then set the glass down. “I want to go right now.”

“Okay,” Matsukawa took one bag from Hanamaki, then hurried over to the front door. “Get into the car, Kyoutani. We’ll be right behind you.”

The younger followed his instructions and clambered into the backseat, buckling his seatbelt. Hanamaki looked into Matsukawa’s eyes. “Mattsun, what are we going to do? What if he’s going to come looking for Kyoutani?”

“We’re going to have to do our best to try and protect Kyoutani. But, we also don’t know what kind of lengths his father will go, so we’ll have to be careful and protect ourselves as well,” he explained, tossing Kyoutani’s bags into the trunk. “Once we get to Iwaizumi’s place, we’re calling the police and they’ll take care of it.”

“Okay,” he shivered, and Matsukawa took his hand, kissing his knuckles softly. 

“Believe me, Makki. We’re going to be okay.”

“I trust you, Mattsun.”

It had been three weeks since Kyoutani’s father appeared, yet he had not been spotted. Not in public, not at Kyoutani’s house, nowhere. It might have seemed like good news to the naked eye, but to Kyoutani, he knew that there was an imminent tragedy upcoming in the near future. 

And perhaps that tragedy was closer than he would have liked to hope.

Kyoutani just finished hopping down the steps, sending a quiet grunt of greeting to Oikawa and Iwaizumi, who were both already at the table. He opened the fridge, scanning for something for breakfast.

“There’s some gohan and miso shiru on the counter if you want some, Kyoutani,” Iwaizumi called from the table, looking over his shoulder at the boy, who nodded in a response. 

He closed the fridge, extracting a plate from the cupboard and piling a small mound of gohan and miso shiru onto it. He selected some chopsticks before sitting across from the couple, muttering, “Thank you for the food,” then taking a bite.

“If you’re up for it, we’re having a morning practice today,” Oikawa leaned on Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. I’m trying to fix my schedule anyway. It’s been way too long,” he sighed and shook his head to himself. “I’m sorry, I’m not exactly a fast healer.”

“Kyoutani, no one expects anything from you. You take your time, but I’m glad you’re really trying,” Iwaizumi smiled at the younger, who hummed in agreement.

“And I’ll be at afternoon practice, too,” he added after a moment. “I haven’t spiked in so long, I miss the feeling.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to set you up plenty of spikes,” Oikawa vowed, a smile of his own creeping onto his face. 

“Mh-hm,” he picked up a bite, keeping quiet for the remainder of breakfast.

Once they were all ready, the trio began their walk to school with Iwaizumi and Oikawa walking side-by-side, but Kyoutani trailing behind a few feet. He stuck his hands into his pockets, and of course, Yahaba’s voice was in his head.

_ I’m so proud of you, Kyou. I’m happy that you’re fixing yourself after everything that’s happened in these past weeks. _

“It’s just normal, I guess. I know I can’t stay like this forever,” he muttered almost silently.

_ Still. I’m proud. I love you, Kyou. _

“I love you too, Shigeru,” he felt a ghost hand grab his fingers, intertwining them together in his pocket. He relished in the absent yet slightly fulfilling feeling of contentment until they came to the school gate. 

_ I’m going to leave now, I’m going to get you focus on school and practice, not me. Okay? _

“Yeah, that’s fine. I can manage.” A non-existent kiss to his lips later, Kyoutani was following Oikawa and Iwaizumi into the gym changing room, already occupied by Kunimi, Kindaichi, and Watari.

The three of them looked at Kyoutani almost remorsefully, yet also glad since he was finally back at practice after so long. He had been back to school for a few weeks, yet he could only manage a few hours before he broke down and was sent home. This time, he was determined to stay for the entire day, practice and all, without leaving early or ditching during lunch. He was doing it all for Yahaba.

Kyoutani ignored the looks from the three in the locker room, he just acknowledged them with his hand before he changed into his practice attire. He entered the gym, the team following behind him. 

“Alright,” Oikawa clapped his hands together, smiling. “Let’s start stretching, yes?”

When Kyoutani finally walked out of the gym that night, he was so drained of emotional energy that he just wanted to scream. Instead of walking behind, he was kicking rocks in front of Oikawa and Iwaizumi. He watched as a rock scuttled into the road, bouncing to a stop just to get run over by a car. He looked up into the car window, then his blood froze.

Inside, his father was waving to him, a wicked, evil grin plastered on his face. Kyoutani stared after the car, then shook his head and quickened his pace. Iwaizumi noticed, but didn’t think too much of it, and of course, Oikawa was too busy chatting to realize the change in atmosphere. 

Kyoutani reached the front door, tapping his foot as Iwaizumi unlocked it and allowed Kyoutani to step inside. “Go ahead and shower, Kyoutani. I’ll start on dinner,” the older spiker locked the door as soon as Oikawa was inside.

The younger nodded, walking into the guest room, which had turned into his own. 

Oikawa hung himself around Iwaizumi’s neck, kissing his cheek kindly. “I’m proud of him, he’s doing a lot better.”

“Yeah, I’m glad,” he remarked, his arm pulling Oikawa into an embrace. “Look, I wanted to talk about something while Kyoutani isn’t here.”

“Oh? Go ahead, Iwa-chan. I’m listening,” his eyes proved his words to be true as they entered the kitchen. 

Iwaizumi inhaled a deep breath, situating Oikawa in front of himself instead of in his arms. He cupped the boy’s cheek, looking him in the eyes. “We don’t know what Kyoutani’s father is planning to do, so I want you to be as safe as possible, okay?”

“Okay? What are you getting at?” he cocked his head to the side, trying his best to keep his composure straight.

“He’s threatened to kill Kyoutani, and we don’t know where he is. For all we know, he could come after any of us or at least get us caught up in his gunfire. We don’t know what’s going to happen, so I want to say this, and it’s the… same for me,” he bit his lip, tears pricking his eyes.

“Hajime, you’re scaring me,” Oikawa whimpered.

“I know, and I’m sorry, baby. But it’s just-” his barrier snapped, and a few tears escaped his eyes. “If I get killed, please promise me you’ll look after Kyoutani.”

“Hajime, what the fuck. Don’t say that!” Oikawa slapped his hand off his face, tears of his own spilling out. “You’re not gonna die, shut up!”

“It’s a what if, Kawa. I’m trying to prepare you for the worst,” he landed both hands on his shoulders, keeping them from shaking. “It’s the same thing for me, and I hate the idea of losing you, I despise it with all my heart, but it’s  _ possible. _ ”

“I know!” he burst. “But I don’t want to think about it!”

“I know, I don’t want to either. But it needs to be addressed. The idea of us getting caught up in this was proven the moment Yahaba was shot,” he released his grip on Oikawa. “It’s possible, it’s not far off, and no one knows what’s going to happen.”

“Hajime, I-” he sniffled. “Hajime, I don’t want to think about it,” he finished in a low whisper.

“I understand, Tooru. But please, keep it in mind, and if the worst comes to pass, someone has to look after Kyoutani, to stop him from falling even farther into this darkness, to make sure he  _ lives _ and  _ thrives _ ,” he hugged Oikawa tightly, face pressed into his neck. “Please, promise me, Tooru.”

“Promise me this too, Hajime. Promise me we’ll be okay,” his voice was husky and uneven.

“I do.”

“Then I promise too.”

“Thank you, Tooru,” he kissed Oikawa’s lips tenderly, fingers curling around his chocolate locks.

“But please, don’t talk about this a lot. I hate it,” he muttered into Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

“Alright, Tooru.” 

Kyoutani had eaten his dinner silently, going directly to bed and face planting into his pillow. He pulled the covers over himself, letting warmth and comfort take him over. He closed his eyes, pressing his cheek into the soft pillow and sighing deeply.

“Please, talk to me tonight, Shigeru. I need your voice,” he managed right before the temptation of slumber corrupted him. 

_ He felt the wave of relief wash over him, and suddenly, he was back in the park. He looked around, studying his surroundings and searching for Yahaba. He stood from his spot on the grass, then felt a hand yank on his sleeve.  _

_ “Where are you heading, Kyou? We already have our snacks,” Yahaba giggled up at him. _

_ He immediately fell back down, hugging his wife-to-be tightly. “Sorry, I didn’t see you so I wanted to look for you,” his younger voice was so quiet and weak, it could be broken with a stick.  _

_ “Hey, it’s okay! Come on, come here, let me hold you, Kyou,” Yahaba outstretched his arms and Kyoutani immediately scrambled in, his head against the brunette’s heartbeat. _

_ “Shiga, I really love you, you know?” _

_ “I love you too, Kyou!” he chimed happily, playing with the tiny curls bouncing on Kyoutani’s head. “Are insecurities getting the better of you again? If so, I’ll make them all go away!” _

_ “How, Shiga?” he turned his head to face Yahaba’s grinning face. _

_ “Like this!” he leaned down, planting a kiss on Kyoutani’s lips, then suddenly, they were teenagers again, and Yahaba’s entire body was curled around Kyoutani.  _

_ The brunette’s fingers cupped his cheeks, their knees knocking together as they moved with one another. Kyoutani melted into Yahaba’s arms, his own hands finding themselves clutching onto the front of the brunette’s shirt.  _

_ Their eyes cracked open, and Yahaba giggled. “You’re so flustered, Kyou. What? Did you not expect a wife to kiss his husband?” _

_ “N-no, I just-” he broke into a smile. “I just miss you so fucking much, Shiga.” _

_ “I know that it’s hard. But at least you can still see me like this, yeah?” he stood, pulling Kyoutani to his feet. “Enjoy this time, Kyou.” _

_ “Of course.” He smirked at a sudden idea. He released Yahaba’s hands, then took a few steps back. He began running, tackling the boy to the ground and smothering him with butterfly kisses.  _

_ He erupted into giggles and laughs, pushing and begging Kyoutani to stop tickling him. “K-K-Kyou! Co-come on! Stawwhhpp!” he whined, but of course, he didn’t listen.  _

_ Kyoutani pressed on before eventually collapsing onto Yahaba’s chest and hugging him close. “My God, I miss holding you.” _

_ “I know,” he breathed heavily, face flushed and nose flaring. “I know,” he closed his eyes, relaxing. “I miss you too.” _

_ “I’m trying my best to live for you, Shiga. I’m really trying,” he raised himself a little so he could see the brunette’s face. _

_ “I know and I’m so proud, Kyou. I’m so proud of you for going on without me,” he kissed the top of Kyoutani’s head. “So proud, so happy, so glad.” _

_ “I love you, Shiga. I love you so much.” _

_ “I love you too. Now come on, time passed by quickly. I believe your alarm is going off,” Yahaba sat up, taking Kyoutani with him. “Wake up, eat, and head to practice, okay? I’ll be here when you fall asleep again.” _

_ “Alright. One last kiss, please?”  _

He received his wish, then his eyes opened. He rubbed them gingerly, pulling himself to sit against the headboard. He turned off his alarm, his feet swinging over the side of the bed. “Alright, I’ll get through today with no problems. It’s all gonna be okay.”

_ Yes, Kyou. That’s right. It’s all going to be alright. _

Afternoon practice had begun about twenty minutes ago, with Oikawa setting plenty of perfect tosses to Kyoutani, but not neglecting his other spikers as well. He heard a loud knocking on the gym door, and he smiled. “Watari! Could you get the door? It’s probably the new order of jerseys that coach bought!”

“Yes, Captain!” Watari started towards the door, about to pull it open as soon as he reached it. 

“Alright, everyone, come gather arou-” Oikawa was cut off with a bang. He was confused for a moment, but Kyoutani wasn’t. Of course he wasn’t.

“WATARI!” Kyoutani watched in horror as the boy’s body lost balance and fell. 

_ Crack. _

Iwaizumi immediately yanked Oikawa and Kyoutani down by their shirts, protecting their bodies with his own. “Stay down!” he ordered, glaring around at the gym. The gunner started shooting up the gym, screams of panic and terror ripping from all the teenager’s throats.

Kyoutani was frozen in shock, as well as realization. He held onto Oikawa’s sleeve, allowing Iwaizumi to drag them farther away from the gunman. 

Hanamaki and Matsukawa were far enough away from the gunner that they weren’t easy targets, yet they were close enough to see Kindaichi tackle Kunimi to the ground, taking two bullets to his leg as he did so. As much as they wanted to lash out and fight, they continued to scramble away, racing out the back doors to call the police.

“Makki, where’s your phone?! Do you have it?!” Matsukawa demanded, shoving the door open and taking Hanamaki multiple yards away from the gym.

“I-I-I got it, right here!” he yanked it out, fingers too shaky to even punch in his passcode.

“Give it, you just calm down, o-okay?” he took the phone, entering the password and slamming his finger against the call icon. He put in the police number, speaking as soon as it was picked up. “There’s a shooter, Aoba Johsai high school!”

Kindaichi bit his tongue so hard it drew blood, and it dripped down his chin onto Kunimi’s cheek. “Ku-Kunimi, listen, get away, please! You have to get away, okay?!”

“I can’t leave you here!” he protested. “You’ve gotten shot  _ twice _ , Kindaichi!”

“Kunimi, don’t you fucking  _ dare _ worry about me right now,” he snapped, shoving him away from himself. “Get the hell out of here, follow Makki and Mattsun, wait for help!”

“No! If I leave, you could die!” he wailed, holding onto Kindaichi’s shirt for dear life. “We need to get out together, yeah? So let’s get out together!”

“Kunimi, be selfish for once in your life, goddammit!” He breathed out a harsh breath, blood from his mouth splattering against the gym floor. Three more shots rang out, and he ducked to protect Kunimi’s body. “Kunimi, please just-” his sentence snapped off. “Kunimi?”

The boy didn’t answer. Panic bubbled in Kindaichi’s throat and he was quick to pull Kunimi away from the range of bullets. “Kunimi!”

He gasped in pain as another bullet grazed his foot, then he curled in on Kunimi. “Please, answer me!”

“Ki… chi,” he managed. “P- ease, don wan die…”

“Akira?!”

There sounded a loud boom of laughter as soon as the gunshots ceased. “A message from your father, Kyoutani Kentarou! See what happens when you disobey him? DO YOU SEE NOW YOU LITTLE BRAT?!”

Sobbing came from all around the entire gym. From Kindaichi, from Oikawa, even from Kyoutani himself. The gunner’s weapon fired off one more round, right by Kindaichi. He screamed, but the bullet didn’t hit him. Instead, it snuck right between his arms and struck Kunimi’s body, giving him the one final push necessary. The boy exhaled a breath, but didn’t move an inch afterwards.

Kindaichi’s tears of pain and grief joined his blood as well as Kunimi’s. “AKIRA PLEASE!”

Police sirens wailed in the distance, but it was too late.

_ Crack. _

Matsukawa and Hanamaki came racing in with a few police officers, but the gunner was gone. The two teenagers looked around the gym, watching as everyone crumbled down to nothing but rusty foundations. There were no more walls, the roof had caved in, and all of the decorations had been destroyed. Their perfect team, their perfect  _ family _ was nothing more than just a collapsed building, deprived of everything it used to have.

Watari’s eyes were wide in surprise and fear, yet glazed over and lifeless. There was a bullet in his chest and an empty magazine by his head. Hanamaki almost saw his lunch for the second time that day.

Kindaichi’s tears ran him dry, but he refused to leave Kunimi. He clung onto the boy’s body until he passed out from blood loss. Iwaizumi, Oikawa, and Kyoutani were completely unhurt, thankfully, but Kyoutani knew the true reason why they weren’t shot at.

“My father wants me to lose everything,” he deadpanned weakly. “That’s what he wants.”

“K-Kyoutani?” Oikawa gazed at him. 

“He wants me to suffer until the day he kills me.”  _ And I have a feeling that day is going to come soon. _

Kindaichi startled awake, shooting upright then feeling a stabbing pain in his leg. He almost screamed in surprise, but held it in, only letting a soft whimper escape his lips. With his eyes bleary with tears, he looked to his left and to his right. His hands fumbled at his sides, desperately looking for something. His breath quickened when he realized he was alone in his bed. “Kunimi? Kunimi, where are you?!” 

He tried to stand, but a hand on his chest stopped him. “Kindaichi, calm down, okay? You’re in the hospital right now, and you shouldn’t be moving your leg,” a familiar voice said, trying to be as soothing as possible. 

“Where’s Kunimi? What happened? Why does everything hurt?” he wiped his eyes, recognizing the voice as soon as his vision was clear. 

Silence.

“M-Mattsun, where’s Akira? Where is he?!” his tone rose with panic. “He’s okay, right? What even happened yesterday? Why am I here?!”

“So, you don’t remember. It makes sense,” Matsukawa sighed. “Look, please don’t freak out, you have to promise me to stay calm. Because if you don’t, you’ll go into a state of shock and we might lose you.” He grabbed Kindaichi’s hands. 

“Wh-what do you mean?” his lip trembled.

“There was a gunman at school yesterday. He came into the gym, and he was shooting at us. Kunimi, he-” Matsukawa avoided looking into Kindaichi’s eyes, squeezing his own shut as he continued. “Your leg got shot while you were protecting Kunimi, but he didn’t make it.”

“What are you saying? I’ve failed Akira? He’s… gone?” the younger’s hands began to quiver. “I couldn’t protect him?”

“I’m sorry, Kindaichi. I’m so sorry,” Matsukawa buried his forehead into their intertwined hands. 

“We’ve lost him? He’s gone, he’s dead?!”

“No no, Kindaichi, please calm down!” Matsukawa’s head shot up, seeing the distressed and hopeless glaze over the spiker’s eyes. “Please, you have to breathe, calm down!” He scrambled to press the nurse call button as Kindaichi began to hyperventilate. 

The nurse ran into the room and upon seeing Kindaichi’s state, she snatched up a breathing mask, pulled it over Kindaichi’s face and flipped a few switches. Matsukawa watched as the nurse leaned the boy back, his eyes sliding closed as the anesthesia took its toll. A tear rolled down Kindaichi’s cheek, as well as Matsukawa’s. “Thank you,” he managed to the nurse, who took the seat on the opposite side of him. 

“He’s going to need time to fully understand and adapt to what happened,” she spoke up. “Until he can handle this without going into shock, he’s going to need to be eased into the truth.”

“I can understand that,” he swiped his tear away with his sleeve. “I’d be the exact same way if Makki had been the one shot.”

“It’s a horrible thing, what has happened to you. I can’t even begin to imagine how this must feel,” she hung her head. 

“And I hope you never have to understand,” he inhaled through his nose. “If he wakes up, please let me know,” he said as he stood.

“Of course.”

With that, Matsukawa left the room. He made his way to the waiting room, where Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Hanamaki awaited. “He’s under anesthesia right now. He almost went into shock,” he explained, sitting himself next to Hanamaki. “I just-” he choked back more tears.

The other boy took up his hand. “You don’t have to speak, Mattsun. It’s okay.”

“I just want to go back in time, I want them all back!” 

“I know, we all do.” He leaned his head against Matsukawa’s. 

After a moment of quiet crying, Matsukawa spoke up. “Hey… where’s Kyoutani?”

He was in Iwaizumi’s kitchen, staring at the sparkling silver. Yet it did not move from its place in the drawer. He watched as his tears slid from the base down to the tip, dripping into the drawer and making a dark blotch appear just below the knife’s sharp end. He slammed it closed, curling into a ball in the center of the kitchen floor. He didn’t speak, didn’t whimper, he didn’t even hear himself breathe.

His phone dinged in his pocket, and he hesitantly pulled it out. 

_ Kyoutani, where are you? _ It was from Iwaizumi.

He typed out a response, but didn’t send it. He stared at his screen, tears blurring the words together. He wiped it down, eventually sending the message.  _ I’m at home, in the kitchen. Don’t worry, I’m okay. _

A bubble popped up, showing that Iwaizumi was typing.  _ Good. Just please stay away from things you could hurt yourself with. We’ll be home soon. _

He responded with a simple  _ K _ before resting his head on the hardwood. He used his arm as a pillow, closing his weak eyes in a poor attempt to sleep all of this away.

He felt his phone vibrate again, and he slid his eyes open only to have them widen at the message. He threw his phone across the kitchen, yelping at the noise it created when it smacked into the cupboards. 

_ Who else do you want to die, my son? _

He pressed his back against the fridge. A string of vibrations came from his phone, and he shakily reached to take up the partially damaged phone. He ignored the now-cracked screen as he read the new messages.

_ Maybe the one with brown hair?  _

_ Or possibly the one that drove you home from the hospital all those weeks ago. Iwaizumi, his name was, yes? _

_ Oh! I know! What about the ones you called after you first saw me? The one with curly dark hair and the other with pink hair. What were their names again? _

Kyoutani’s hands could barely hold the phone as yet another message popped up. 

_ Oh yes, I remember now. Hanamaki and Matsukawa. _

He couldn’t manage to type out anything on his keyboard, but he could just imagine his father laughing at him, cackling evilly as he watched Kyoutani’s life tear at the seams.

He shut his phone off completely, upturning it on the counter and crawling into the living room. He yanked a blanket over his head, hiding himself at the foot of the couch. He just waited and waited for Iwaizumi to come home. He sat and waited for twenty minutes, then he heard the lock of the front door click. 

He peeked his head out from the blanket, watching Iwaizumi and Oikawa enter the house. The chocolate haired male was cleaning his eyes with a tissue, talking on the phone with someone as well. Kyoutani forced himself to his feet, greeting the two with a tiny wave.

Iwaizumi took Oikawa by the hand, guiding him to the living room. He sighed, then took Kyoutani into a tight hug, his hand clenching around the short hairs on the back of his head. Oikawa said a quiet goodbye to the phone, then joined the embrace, his arms wrapping around both of them. The trio sank to the ground in a puddle of emotions, caught up in their own grief and regret. 

“We’ve lost too many people,” Kyoutani buried his nose into Iwaizumi’s bicep. “I’m sorry, this is all my fault. If only I had been the one shot that day, you would still have Shigeru, you’d still have Kunimi, and you’d still have Watari. You would have only lost me.” He bit back his tears. “I’m sorry, if I had known that everything would have unravelled like this, I would have died a long time ago.”

“N-no, don’t say that,” Oikawa mumbled. “Please, Kyoutani, don’t say that.”

“But it’s true, and I never wanted this. Losing Shigeru was bad enough and now-” he couldn’t hold his emotions back anymore. He collapsed, letting Iwaizumi hold him up as he expelled his rage, despair, and grief. 

_ Now I don’t even know what’s going to happen…  _ was the thought on all of their minds. It was the silent truth, understood yet never spoken. They couldn’t predict who would be killed next. They didn’t want to even think about it, yet it was the only thing taking up space in their heads.

_ Who else is going to be killed? _

Yahaba’s knuckles were shading white, face paling instantly once he realized Kyoutani was serious about hitting the man. His knees were giving out but once he gained enough nerve, he prepared himself.

_ Alright, you can’t lose yourself right now. Come on, get a move on, Shigeru. _

Just as the man’s finger began to press down on the trigger, he bolted forwards, shoving Kyoutani to the side, watching as the boy’s body collided with the ground. Yahaba’s lips curled upwards, a small smile on his face as piercing pain shot through his chest.  _ I’m sorry, Kentarou. But at least you’re alive. _

He wanted to cry out, he wanted to scream, he wanted to do anything to stop the pain, but he just let his balance fail. He let himself fall to the ground. He allowed himself to bleed out. The only thing Yahaba did was smile at the boy shaking his shoulders. “S-Shigeru, hey. Hey, Shigeru!” Kyoutani pleaded.

_ I won’t be able to go to that interview with you, Kentarou. I won’t be there to hold your hand if you get anxious. I won’t be there to sing you to sleep, to soothe you after an anger attack, or to cook for you. But, these years with you have been the best years of my life. _

Thundering footsteps fled the scene.

“Baby baby please! Don’t leave!” A pressure on his wounded chest. “Hey, police are coming, Shiga! You’ll be okay!”

_ No, I won’t be, Kyou. I won’t make it, I can’t hold on any longer. _ With the last of his strength, Yahaba began to mutter. “At least you’re safe, my dearest husband-to-be.”  _ I love you, so much more than you could imagine. I’ll miss you, just as you’ll miss me.  _

Yahaba’s eyes blurred into inky blackness, then he could no longer taste the iron in his mouth. The ground faded from underneath him, but he caught one more thing before his ears failed him. “No, please, damn you! Don’t leave me! I still want to-” And finally, Kyoutani’s sob.

He drifted off, a smile on his face. But instead of finding himself in a tranquil field of flowers or however he envisioned his afterlife to be, Yahaba opened his eyes to be in Kyoutani’s living room. He cocked his head to the side, then froze as he saw Kyoutani walk to the front door, opening it to reveal Iwaizumi and a weeping Oikawa.

“What’s going on?” Yahaba wondered aloud, but no one turned to look at him. He stepped towards the trio, placing his hand on Kyoutani’s shoulder. “Oh, I think I understand, now. Don’t worry, Kyou. I’ll always be here to make sure you get back on track.” He ran his hand up Kyoutani’s neck, swiping at the back of his head before planting a kiss on his nape.

He stood back as they walked into the living room, Oikawa hugging Kyoutani tightly on the couch while Iwaizumi made for the kitchen. Yahaba’s breath hitched at the sight of the cake he had made the night before. He sat on the couch beside Oikawa, grabbing his upperclassman’s hand. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” his voice cracked.

Yahaba was wandering the house for a week, watching as Kyoutani just laid in bed, only getting up for the occasional trip for a tiny snack and the bathroom. He sat in bed, watching the boy sleep, caressing his cheek.

Suddenly, Kyoutani’s eyes shot open and he forced himself to his knees. He saw his hands, then screamed and began to weep. “I’m so sorry, Shigeru! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” he covered his face with his hands.

The brunette took a chance, and spoke. “You wanted to do the right thing, Kyou. I know that,” he whispered.

“Shigeru, please,” Kyoutani answered, sniffling. “Please don’t tell me those lies. I know this is just in my head, please just go.”

Yahaba, taken aback that the boy could actually hear him, sighed. He kneeled, pulling Kyoutani’s head to his chest. “Alright, Kyou. I understand. But I know you’ve been thinking about this; look under the stairs. Sure the note I left said not to, but that was for before your birthday.”

“I don’t know if I’m strong enough, Shigeru.”

“Please. It’s your birthday present, Kyoutani.”

“Alright, okay. I’ll take a look,” the boy closed his eyes, leaning into the non-existent touch.

Yahaba smiled, standing and kissing his forehead before exiting the room and walking downstairs.  _ I just have to keep watch over him until he’s safe from himself.  _

Yahaba had to watch as Kyoutani shattered from the inside out. He had to watch as his husband-to-be slid that silver over his wrist and gaze at the blood that oozed out. He had to overlook it as the puddles grew on the kitchen floor. He curled in on himself when he realized that the punching bag wouldn’t be a satisfactory form of release any longer.

The brunette followed Iwaizumi into their car, taking Kyoutani’s head into his lap as they drove to the hospital. He laid with him as he was admitted, and as Iwaizumi and Oikawa came in to talk. He stayed right by Kyoutani’s side, talking to him, sleeping beside him, advising him to be productive in his health.

He stayed with him even as Kunimi and Watari were shot. He couldn’t bring himself to leave as his friends were slaughtered by the man Kyoutani’s father had sent. All for the sake of keeping his friends on the right track. But he knew all too well that it was far too late.

“Kunimi. Watari,” Yahaba embraced the boys. “I’m sorry that we have to see each other again like this.”

“Yahaba,” Kunimi’s voice broke, and he spilled his tears. “Wh-what are we doing here? Have you been he-here this whole time?”

“Yes. I’ve been here ever since I died,” he sighed, running his hands over both Kunimi and Watari’s heads. “But I’m not exactly sure how long we’ll remain here.” 

“B-but what about Kunimi and I? Why are we here?” Watari asked.

“I’m not sure. I know for sure I’m here to make sure Kyoutani lives, and I assume Kunimi is here to watch over Kindaichi, but who I truly worry about is Oikawa. He’s lost three underclassmen, and we all know how much we loved us,” he placed his hands on their shoulders. “So, we’ll just have to watch over all of them because they need to keep going.”

“Understandable,” Kunimi sighed against Yahaba’s shoulder. “But, Yahaba, how do you stay sane watching all of this?”

“It takes a lot of getting used to,” he took the two boys by the hands, leading them through the Seijoh gym. “But knowing you’re still here for a purpose helps a lot. Come on, let’s get to the hospital. Kindaichi needs you, Kunimi. He woke up yesterday but almost died from shock when Mattsun told him.”

Watari and Kunimi nodded, following Yahaba’s lead. The brunette closed his eyes, and after a minute, they appeared in Kindaichi’s hospital room. He was asleep, the anesthetics and pain relievers heavy in his system. 

“Go ahead, Kunimi. Take his hand,” Yahaba advised, his voice hushed as he released the boy’s palm. “Watari and I will leave you alone, and we’ll go check on Oikawa and the others.”

“Thank you, Yahaba,” he took a single step closer to the unconscious boy. Once he knew the other two were gone, Kunimi broke down into tears. He collapsed by Kindaichi’s side, crying into his hands. “Yuutarou,” he croaked, eyes cracked open just a hair. “Yuutarou, I’m glad you’re alive! I’m so glad!”

A soft murmur came from the boy’s lips. “A-Akira..?”

“Hey, Yuutarou,” he pulled himself closer, eventually heaving into bed next to Kindaichi. He nuzzled his head in the crook between Kindaichi’s neck and shoulder. “You can hear me, even just a little.”

Another breathy whisper. “Akira?”

“Yes, Yuutarou, I’m here, I’m here!” he cried, his tears ghosting once they slipped off his cheeks. He reached his hand to caress Kindaichi’s forehead, sliding underneath the matted bangs. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Yuutarou.”

Luckily, his hand didn’t slip through the boy’s body, but the strands of hair didn’t shift under his touch. It made the fact that he was dead hit him all over again. He sank into the hospital bed, laying on top of the blanket. He traced his finger along Kindaichi’s features. “Hey… Yuutarou. You know I love you, yeah? I love you so much. I miss you, even though you’re right in front of me. I miss you because I know you won’t be able to hold me again,” he tilted Kindaichi’s chin, his lips passing through the breathing mask and landing against Kindaichi’s own.

“Akira,” Kindaichi’s comatose self began to cry. “Akira.”

“I’m right here, Yuutarou. I’m right here,” his fingers laced over the top of Kindaichi’s heart. “I’ll always be here.”

“Akira!” A hand shot to where Kunimi’s head would be, but it fell through like a hot knife through butter. “Akira…” A desperate rasp.

“I know, I know,” he kissed him again and again. “I’m here, but you can’t see me. You can just hear me even in this state. But you can’t feel me and you probably don’t think this is real. But I swear, this is as real as it gets. I’m here, I’m with you.”

“Akira,” he whimpered.

Kunimi stroked Kindaichi’s forearm, his fingers reaching up and down his arm in soothing motions. He began to hum under his breath, relaxing himself atop Kindaichi’s chest. “I’ll always be with you, Yuutarou,” he said in between hums. 

“Akira, please don’t leave,” Kindaichi pleaded, almost silently.

“I won’t go. I won’t leave. I’ll stay, I promise,” he tightened his hold. 

The door suddenly slid open with Matsukawa and Hanamaki stepping inside. The latter sighed, closing the door. “He’s crying again.”

Matsukawa sat beside Kindaichi’s bed, taking his hand and stroking it with his thumb. “I wonder if he’s dreaming about Kunimi.”

“I reckon he is. You know how much they loved each other. Now all of a sudden he’s just gone,” he leaned on his elbows, resting them on the bed railing.

Kunimi looked into the glassy eyes of his upperclassmen. “Yuutarou, please don’t forget to fight, okay? You have people who will stand by you, so please don’t push them away.”

“I promise, Akira,” he turned his head, his lips brushing over Kunimi’s nose.

“Oh,” Hanamaki stiffened. “Mattsun, he’s sleep talking.”

“Mhm,” he hung his head. “It’s like with Kyoutani. He can hear Yahaba in his head. That’s what has kept him going for so long.”

“I hope it’s the same for Kindaichi. He needs to keep going even with such a loss,” he tapped his foot anxiously. “Hey, Mattsun?”

“Yeah?” he faced the other.

“Mattsun, I love you,” he leaned in, kissing Matsukawa tenderly, almost remorsefully. “It’s selfish and insensitive, but I’m so glad you’re still alive.”

“Same here,” he kissed Hanamaki again, rubbing the back of his neck comfortingly. “We’ve all lost too much, and we haven’t even had enough time to fully recuperate from Yahaba’s loss.”

“I wonder when this will end.”

“We can hope it’ll end soon.”

Kunimi stood, landing one final kiss on Kindaichi’s lips and muttering a soft goodbye before exiting the hospital room.

“No, Akira, please don’t go…”

Yahaba left Watari with Oikawa and Iwaizumi, allowing him to speak on his own terms. He explained how to shift from place to place, and asked him to teach Kunimi the same. 

“Yeah, I will,” Watari responded, then hugged Yahaba once more before the latter shifted into Iwaizumi’s living room. 

Kyoutani was there, hugging a pillow to his chest. Yahaba took the open spot next to him, leaning against the boy and sighing. “I’m here, Kyou.”

A quiet gasp of surprise. “Shiga!”

He chuckled, running a finger across Kyoutani’s creased brow. “Have you eaten yet?”

“No, I don’t think I’ll be able to stomach anything after what happened,” he shook his head, stuffing his nose into the pillow.

“Kyou, please. At least something small.”

“Alright, Shiga,” he stood, holding out his hand then hesitating. “Oh, right. You’re just a voice in my head.”

Yahaba reached for his hand anyway, walking with him to the kitchen. He sat on the counter, overlooking Kyoutani fumbling with the fridge. He took out a tupperware full of rice. He grabbed a few seasonings as well as a small glass container of barbecued pork. He added everything into a bowl and stuck it in the microwave. “Shiga, did it hurt when you died?”

“Oh,” he stilled himself. “Well, the gunshot hurt, but dying is just like falling asleep. You lose your eyesight first, then taste, then your sense of touch, and finally, your ears stop working.”

“Hm,” he took the bowl out as soon as the microwave beeped. “Shiga, what would you do if I joined you?”

Now that made Yahaba slam his feet onto the hardwood flooring and chuck the nearest thing to him across the room. “You’d better not, Kyoutani Kentarou!” Of course, he didn’t actually throw anything. It just neglected to be picked up in the first place. 

“I know, I’m sorry Shiga, But I can’t help but think, what if I just died? Would my father cease the killings? I mean, I would save anyone else from dying just because he wants to have some ‘fun,’” he spat that word out like poison.

Yahaba sighed sharply. “No, the police will continue to look for your father, and he’ll be stopped before he kills anyone else. You absolutely  _ cannot _ give up now. If you do, I won’t ever forgive you.”

“I’m sorry, Shigeru. It’s just that I can’t stop thinking about how it could be ended with only one more life taken,” he took a bite of the rice.

“I want you to shut the hell up.” Yahaba would have slapped him if he could, but he climbed back onto the counter instead. “You won’t give up because I won’t let you.”

Kyoutani poked his rice with his chopsticks. “Okay, I won’t.”

“Good.” He began kicking his legs in the air, fingers curling around the edge of the granite surface. “I love you, Kyoutani.”

The boy just melted at those words. “I love you too, Shiga.”

“Now, what are you going to do?” he reached, his fingers harshly pinching Kyoutani’s ear.

“I’m going to listen to you, and I’m going to keep living,” he visibly winced, then reached up to gingerly pat his ear. “God, I must be going crazy.”

“Maybe.” 

“Hey, you’re supposed to say that I’m perfectly sane, Shiga!” he pouted. 

“You are, kind of? I mean, I wouldn’t blame you for going insane, Kyou. A lot has happened recently,” he hopped down from the counter, hugging the boy tightly. “But, even if you’re crazy, I’ll still love you.”

“That’s good to hear,” he gave a tiny smile.

“So, after you finish eating, go and take a nap. You’ll see me in your dream, I promise,” he vowed, stealing a kiss from his lips.

“Okay, I will.” 

“Iwa-chan?” Oikawa pushed his hair out of his face, only to have the wind take it back to the same spot. 

“Yeah?” Iwaizumi pulled a small clip from his pocket, adjusting Oikawa’s hair and clapping it into place.

“Why?” He held Iwaizumi’s palm against his cheek, leaning into it and releasing a single tear. “Why is the world so cruel?”

“I don’t know, Kawa,” he averted his gaze, looking down at the gravestone instead. “I wish I knew, I really do. Because Yahaba didn’t deserve to die. He was supposed to be the next captain. Kindaichi didn’t deserve to lose Kunimi, and we shouldn’t have lost Watari. They were going to take Aoba Johsai to nationals.”

“I wanted to see that,” Oikawa clasped his hands together, then kneeled down and dragged his finger over the engraving of Yahaba’s name. “Beat Shiratorizawa to a pulp, win nationals, show Japan who’s boss.”

Iwaizumi chuckled. “You would be so proud of them.”

“I would be,” he reeled back onto his heels, leaning against Iwaizumi’s legs. “I want to see that look of shock on Ushiwaka’s face when our next generation kicks his ass.”

“It’s still possible. Just because they’re gone doesn’t mean we won’t rebuild, Kawa,” he twirled a chunk of Oikawa’s hair with his finger.

“I know, it’s just that Yahaba was so excited to be the captain.”

“Mh-hm, didn’t he literally squeal when you told him?”

“Haha, yeah, he did,” he snickered. “Kyoutani was so concerned, he didn’t let me near him for the next week.”

Iwaizumi huffed a breath out of his nose, amused. “We just have to keep holding onto all the good times. That way, they won’t truly be gone.”

“Like when Yahaba slammed Kyoutani against a wall that one game?”

“Yes, Kawa,” he sat down, holding Oikawa close to his heartbeat. “Like that one.”

They continued talking quietly, sharing their fond memories with one another. Eventually, the street lamps began to illuminate. “Kawa, we should get home. Kyoutani might be wanting dinner,” he advised, taking the boy by the underarms and hoisting him up.

“Jeez, he’s not a dog- wait,” he knitted his eyebrows together. “He is a dog, he’s Mad Dog-chan.”

“Kawa, are you tired?”

“Nope!”

“Liar.”

“Aww, you caught me.”

“Like a damsel in distress,” he reached an arm out, keeping Oikawa on his feet as he dramatically twisted and ‘lost balance’. 

“So very chivalrous of you, Iwa-chan,” he giggled.

“And how graceful of you,” he rolled his eyes.

They let their feet guide them home and inside the house as soon as the door was unlocked. Iwaizumi poked it ajar, slipping off his shoes, but then he froze. “Is that… singing?” he muttered, hushing Oikawa before he could begin.

The singing was brought to a close, then a short chuckle replaced it. “Your voice never ceases to amaze me.” A short pause. “Come on, give yourself some credit, Shiga. You’re wonderful at everything you do.”

“Oh,” Oikawa fixed his eyes on the floor.

“Hey! That was uncalled for!” He laughed loudly. “Stop it, Shiga! It’s embarrasing!”

Iwaizumi quietly led Oikawa inside, shutting the door as efficiently as he could without making any noise. He beckoned Oikawa upstairs, and that’s where they went. They could still hear Kyoutani talking and laughing even as they slid the door to their bedroom shut.

“Shiga, come on! That was  _ one _ time! Well, I’m  _ soo _ sorry for enjoying myself!” he argued. 

“You shoved snow in my face! And it was  _ twice _ !” Yahaba screeched. “Your eyeliner got ruined again, and it was your fault for ruining my beautiful work!”

“HA! You admitted it was beautiful!” He landed his hands on his hips, smirking triumphantly.

“S-s-shut up!”

Kyoutani took a quick drink from his glass. “Come on, you enjoyed that snow day.”

“Okay, that I did,” he pouted. “But I am still upset about your eyeliner.”

“Shiga, why can’t you just accept that fact that you’re amazing at literally everything. You’ll even be a great volleyball captain,” he raised his glass, grinning. “I’d follow you anywhere.”

“That’s reassuring,” he kissed Kyoutani’s cheek. 

“Yeah yeah, not like anyone wouldn’t follow someone like you,” he took a sip of his water, the ice clinking together, creating a sweet symphony. He relished in the sound for a moment, then opened his eyes. “I’ll stay right by your side, keeping you safe forever.”

Oikawa peeked down the stairs through the banister railing. He just sat, listening. But soon, he felt a faint hand on his shoulder. “Hajime,” he grasped the hand, squeezing the fingers tight.

“Kawa, come on. Let’s get some rest,” he said, helping Oikawa to his feet. “We need the sleep, I know you’re exhausted.”

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed. He followed Iwaizumi back into their room, stripping himself and slipping on his alien pajamas instead of his outside attire. Iwaizumi chuckled, leaning down and planting a peck on the alien’s forehead. “Hey!” Oikawa whined. “ _ My _ forehead is up here!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Kawa,” he gazed up apologetically. “I just must have gotten you two confused.”

“Rude!” he screeched. “I do  _ not _ look like an alien!”

“Only a little bit, Kawa,” he wrapped his arms around Oikawa’s waist, tilting his head up and stealing a chaste kiss from his lips. “But you’re perfect, my perfect little alien.”

“ _ Excuse _ you, I’m taller!” he smacked Iwaizumi’s face away, then pouted. “No wait, I changed my mind, I want another kiss.”

“Of course you do,” he ran his digits through the soft locks. “And I’m happy to provide.”

“You’d better be,” he teased, breath tickling Iwaizumi’s nose.

“Stinky breath. Go brush your teeth,” he waved his hand, shoving Oikawa towards the bathroom.

“You brush yours too, Iwa-chan!” he snapped. “It’s not like I want your dirty rotten seaweed fumes in my lungs!”

“Alright, Kawa,” he chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. He pushed Oikawa inside the bathroom, handing him his toothbrush and toothpaste. He watched as the taller struggled for a moment before finally beginning to brush his teeth. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes.

“Stop making fun of me, Iwa-chan!” he squealed, flicking frothy toothpaste at the other. 

He visibly rolled his eyes again, wiping the froth from his face. Oikawa blew a toothpaste-filled raspberry which led to Iwaizumi whipping his back with a towel. “Ow! So mean, Iwa-chan!”

Kindaichi woke up alone once again. He rubbed his eyes, glancing at the clock by his bedside. Then he sighed, hobbling onto his feet. He grabbed his crutches, stumbling to the kitchen of his house. He had been released a few days earlier, with explicit instructions to not pressure his injured leg too much. So, he was stuck on crutches until his stitches were taken out and his scars fully healed.

The process would take about another two months. 

That meant no volleyball, never going outside alone in case he fell or got attacked again, and possibly the worst thing. Plenty of downtime to realize that Kunimi was truly gone. 

He sat at the kitchen table, staring at the wallpaper on his phone. He flattened his lips into a neutral expression, not a frown, nor smile. He just stared and stared the screen shut off from inactivity, only to have him turn it back on again.

The picture was of Kunimi, beaming brightly. It was a stolen photo, taken right after Kindaichi told Kunimi he loved him. That was a couple months after they began dating, and Kindaichi could still remember the day. But, he shook the memories away, the grief still too painful to recall the good times. 

“Akira, why didn’t you run when I told you to?” he asked aloud. A tear splattered against his screen.

“I couldn’t leave you,” he answered, right in Kindaichi’s ear. He wrapped his arms around the boy’s neck, his head on his shoulder. “If you had died, I wouldn’t be able to take it.”

“But now you’ve died, and I can’t stand being alone,” he tried his best to nuzzle into the head on his shoulder, only to have his cheek touch nothing but empty air.

“I know. And maybe I could have saved us both, but it’s too late to change anything. It is how it is, and all we can have is regret.” Kunimi kissed the cheek in front of his lips, shifting so he could sit on Kindaichi’s lap and hug him more efficiently. 

“Why did I have to fail you, Akira?”

“You didn’t.”

“I did. You not being right here in my arms is the proof. I’ve failed you and now I’ve lost everything,” he clung to the tablecloth, a poor substitute for Kunimi’s body.

He took up Kindaichi’s hands, stroking them gently. “Not everything. You still have the rest of the team. You still have your own life. That’s everything you need.”

“No!” He stood abruptly, only to shriek as his stitches sent a stabbing pain up his leg. “Dammit!” he fell back down, covering his sobbing face with his hands. He keeled over the table, shoving his face into the hard surface. 

Kunimi caressed his spine, kissing his nape as he did so. “Shh, it’s okay. Calm down, you’re alright.”

“But I’m not, I’m not alright, Akira,” he gripped the tablecloth harsher than before, it’s new function was to be used as a focal point to anchor himself in the pain. 

“You will be once you’ve come to terms with my death. It may be a year, or it may be ten years from now, but I know you’re going to overcome it all. You’re strong Yuutarou, and I’ve never been so proud of you,” he took Kindaichi’s face in his hands, looking him dead in the eye. “But right now, you need to focus on healing. If you don’t heal properly, I won’t forgive you.”

“Was that supposed to motivate me?” he sighed. “Because it worked. I’m gonna go get something to eat.”

“You’d better,” Kunimi smiled, pleased. Kindaichi’s hand reached for his crutches, standing and limping to the fridge. Kunimi hopped onto his back, giggling into his ear. “I love you, Yuutarou.”

“I loved you too, Akira.”

“Kageyama… I think there’s something you should know,” Hinata whispered, grabbing at the hem on Kageyama’s sleeve. “So please, don’t yell at me and call me an idiot because it’s serious.”

“What is it?” Kageyama asked, taking time to look down at Hinata with a small frown. “You okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just… I was on the phone with Kenma a little while ago, and I heard Kuroo talking in the background, he was saying something about an incident at Aoba Johsai,” he hesitated, lips faltering as a few tears escaped his eyes. “There was a shooter, January 20th… and Kunimi was killed.”

The ball was dropped from Kageyama’s hands, and it rolled down the gym before it gently collided with the wall. “Why… am I just hearing about this now?”

“Kageyama, I’m so sorry,” Hinata opened his arms, but Kageyama didn’t fall in. Instead, he just leaned his forehead against Hinata’s.

“I’m going home, Hinata. Tell the team I’ll be out for some time,” he wrapped his arms around him then, before releasing him and walking out of the gym. He made for the clubroom, grabbing his bags and exiting the school campus. 

The clouds around his head shaded stormy, and the small drops of rain began to dribble down. They ran down his strands of stray hair, and teased his eyelashes. The freezing caress of raindrops didn’t bother Kageyama as he found his way home, but they did add to that feeling of loneliness and dread. “Kindaichi… Kindaichi will need comforting more than me. He loves Kunimi. He needs someone. Someone needs to go see him.”

But these words remained unspoken.  _ Am I even strong enough to be that someone?  _

Kindaichi was exhausted to say the very least. He was definitely not in the mood to be around people, and he most certainly did not want to get out of bed. But as the doorbell rang throughout the empty and quiet house, Kindaichi rolled onto the floor and balanced himself on his crutches.  _ Who would even be here?  _ He thought, thinking back to the date.  _ February sixteenth, there’s nothing planned for today. Not that I would go through those plans, anyways. _

Still, he always felt so disrespectful if he didn’t answer the door, wounded or not. Even if it was another attacker, he couldn’t bring himself to care. If they killed him, that might be a favor depending on his mood. So in his current state of mind, it would be a favor.

However, what he didn’t expect was the faded face of Kageyama Tobio, in the flesh, with a bag around his shoulder. And that exact thing was behind his door. 

“Oh. Hello, Kageyama,” Kindaichi’s voice was cracked, and his shattered soul was visible on the floor, scattered by his feet. “You’ve… heard?”

“I wish I was told sooner,” he whispered. “I brought some things to make dinner if you want me to stay?” He gestured to the bag, and Kindaichi nodded once, jumping to the side and widening the door opening. 

“I’m alone anyways, so it doesn’t matter,” he gingerly slid the door closed, and hobbled after Kageyama to the kitchen. 

“I’m sorry,” Kageyama set up the bag on the counter, then offered his arms to Kindaichi. “I don’t expect anything from you, I just want to be here for you, Kindaichi. If you’d let me.”

The boy sniffled a few times, eyes darting between Kageyama and the floor. He didn’t want to be alone, he was tired of being alone, so he did what he never could in a long time. He relied on Kageyama. 

The arms of the setter had never felt so comforting before, and Kindaichi found himself crutch-less, as they had clattered to the floor when Kageyama embraced him. “Please, Kageyama, please don’t leave me, please,” he begged into the setter’s shoulder. 

“I won’t leave,” Kageyama ran his nimble fingers through the tousled locks, which hadn’t been gelled up in weeks. He held Kindaichi up, careful of the bandaged leg. He graciously took the weight from Kindaichi’s body, transferring it onto his own feet. “We’ll stay safe, I swear.”

_ Safe. _ Now that was a word Kindaichi hadn’t heard in a while. But for some odd reason, he believed the words that Kageyama spoke of. He trusted the one he had once left behind, and he desperately prayed to God that he wouldn’t be taken away from him too. 

Kindaichi sank into the setter, melting into the arms of the boy he wished he never turned his back on. Kageyama Tobio, was he to be a blessing? Kindaichi certainly hoped this wasn’t a prelude to something even more terrible, because he doesn’t think he can handle another loss.

“Come on, let’s sit you down and I can work on dinner,” Kageyama offered, taking about an inch back from Kindaichi. 

“Y-yeah,” he went to reach for his crutches, but instead, his feet were lifted off the ground, gently placed over Kageyama’s inner elbow. “Wha-”

“Sorry for alarming you, but this is just easier. I can bring you your crutches in a minute,” he explained, and Kindaichi just nodded. He dipped his head into Kageyama’s shoulder, letting himself be carried the short paces to the couch. 

Once he was safe on the soft cushions, Kindaichi rested his head on the back pillow. He overlooked as the setter began his work in the kitchen, and he exhaled. “Kageyama,” he croaked, just loud enough for the boy in question to hear.

“Yes, Kindaichi?” he responded immediately. It reminded Kindaichi of Kunimi, yet everything around him normally did that same thing.

“How long will you stay?” he finished his words, only with one single crack in his tone.

“I was planning on going home after dinner,” he answered, and Kindaichi could almost feel his heart sink to his toes.

“Can you… stay? Just for a little while?” he looked up, meeting the dark haired boy’s blueberry eyes.

“Yes, I can stay. How long do you want me to?” Kageyama cocked his head to the side, shifting a few of his ingredients from the bag to the counter.

“I don’t know, I really don’t know, I just don’t want to be alone,” he stuck his face into a pillow, sighing harshly to keep his small pricks of tears back behind his eyes.

“I took two weeks off of school, so I have about a week and a half left, so I can finish up my two weeks here, or until you want me to leave,” he said, and Kindaichi nodded. 

“Thank you, Kageyama,” he breathed into the pillow, and he wasn’t sure if Kageyama heard it, but even if those words rested upon being too quiet, they were sure spoken loud enough through the mutual understanding between them. 

_ There you go, Yuutarou. I’m so proud of you, _ Kunimi thought, landing a peck on Kindaichi’s forehead.  _ Kageyama will take care of you now. I trust him. _

“Iwa-chan, there was an attempt on Makki and Mattsun today,” Oikawa whispered as he scrolled through his news app. “Hajime, Makki almost got-” He huffed, shutting off his phone and clutching his hands together, his forehead pressing against his clammy knuckles. 

“He’s really still going, huh?” Iwaizumi curled into himself on the couch. 

The chocolate haired male tossed his phone to the floor. “I don’t even know what to do anymore, Hajime. The police say they’re doing everything they can, but it’s not even helping.” He drew his legs to his chest and hugged them tightly.

“Kyoutani can’t take any more of this,” he looked over at Oikawa, who just nodded in agreement. “We have to take him somewhere else, somewhere safe.”

“If he knew Kyoutani was at that clothing store at that very same time, he’ll know where we take him. He’s watching Kyoutani like a hawk,” he said, monotone. “Are we all just going to get slaughtered like pigs until he’s satisfied?”

“I don’t know.” 

The shower water shut off, and about five minutes later, Kyoutani exited the bathroom. His phone was in his hand, and he had such a terrible, defeated look on his face. He opened his mouth, then closed it, his lips pressed together into a neutral line. “This won’t stop.” 

_ Drip drip drip _ came from Kyoutani’s still-wet hair as the droplets scattered across the floor underneath his feet. It had gotten longer, the curls reaching about halfway down his nape and his forehead had a few small tousles of hair drooping down. The bleach was draining from his strands, its natural color returning. “He’s not going to stop trying to kill everyone I’m close with, not until I’m dead. If the police aren’t helping, there is nothing we can do besides let me die. I can still save the rest of you if I just give up. It’s something I should have done when Shigeru left me.”

The trio and silence had become quite acquainted recently. 

“No. You can’t let go, Kyoutani. We’ll be okay, we’ll all be okay,” Oikawa tried his best to keep his tone steady.

Kyoutani almost scoffed. “Your best friends get attacked, Shigeru dies, Kunimi and Watari die, and you say ‘we’ll all be okay’? Why are you so optimistic, Oikawa?  _ How _ are you so optimistic?!”

The male in question just began to shake. He couldn’t even muster an answer anymore. “I don’t know,” was the only squeak he exhaled.

Stomps led to Kyoutani’s room, then a door slammed shut.

The two older males didn’t move from their spots on the couch. They just sat in an eerie quiet for the next few hours. Eventually, Iwaizumi had stood and begun to make dinner, but Oikawa stayed put. Even when he heard Kyoutani’s incoherent yelling, he remained on that couch. He knew Kyoutani was talking with Yahaba, that much had been proven a long time ago. He wished whatever Yahaba he was talking to would convince him to not give up, to persevere through this living Hell.

“Kawa,” Iwaizumi called from the kitchen. “Dinner. I’ll bring some to Kyoutani, so you just go and sit down.”

“Mh-hm,” he forced himself to his feet, allowing them to bring him over to the dining room. 

Iwaizumi knocked on Kyoutani’s door, then retreated to the table once he had given the food to him. “Eat, Kawa. You need strength.”

“I know,” he breathed, his hand twitching as it brought the fork to his lips. 

“Do you remember what I was talking to you about a while ago?” Iwaizumi asked after a few bites of the dish.

“Yes, but I don’t want to talk about it again,” he said sternly. “I’m trying to stay on the right path, I can’t think about that right now.”

“Kawa, you can’t stay stubborn and turn a blind eye forever. The attacks are getting closer, that cafe was only a mile from here. They know where we are, and they’re stalking us slowly but surely. Tooru, for all we know, they could strike right now,” he reached and grasped the free hand of the other male.

“Hajime, you think I don’t know that?” he hissed. 

“Please hear me out before you start, Tooru. Please?” A sharp nod told him to continue. “Look, they haven’t even been caught yet, not once. The only one who’s been taken into custody was the man who shot Yahaba. Police aren’t helping, so we’re basically on our own. I know you’re scared, terrified, even. But, you  _ need _ to come to terms with the fact that I could be the next one.

“It isn’t easy thinking about this. It’s so hard to even imagine in your wildest dreams and worst nightmares, and I’m struggling with stomaching the thought of you leaving me, or me leaving you. We haven’t talked about this in awhile, but it’s the harsh truth now. The next person to be targeted is one of us,” he finished with a quiet breath. 

“I understand.”

“Whoever survives has to make sure that we try our absolute best to keep Kyoutani safe. He’s in danger from himself too, more than almost anyone,” he rubbed his fingers along Oikawa’s thumb.

“How are you so calm about this, Hajime? How?” Oikawa looked up at him through half-lidded, teary eyes. 

The older hesitated, his irises flickering between his plate, the table, and Oikawa’s fingernails. “I don’t know if I should tell you or not, Kawa.”

“What? Tell me what, Hajime?” This piqued Oikawa’s interest, and his eyelids raised just a small hair. “I thought we knew everything about each other, ever since we were kids.”

“We do, you do know everything about me, Kawa. Of course you do,” he chuckled. “But this is something that wasn’t really  _ me _ , it was… a  _ past _ me.”

“Oh.” That took a moment to sink in. “Wait wait wait, huh?!”

“I remember my past life, Tooru. And it’s… not something I want to share out loud in this current situation,” he sighed. “But, that’s the reason why I’m so calm in storms like this. It’s the reason why I’m so used to this.”

“Oh, Hajime, I’m so sorry,” Oikawa stood from his chair, hugging Iwaizumi’s head to his chest. “You shouldn’t be used to this, Hajime, that’s just so wrong.”

“It’s alright, Tooru. It was all in the past. It doesn’t affect me anymore,” he assured him, but leaned into his chest, focusing on his heartbeat. “Come on, let’s finish eating and get to bed.”

“Yeah, I guess we should do that.”

Kyoutani, obviously, couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned, but was unable to find the right spot to settle down in. The thoughts in his mind kept him wide awake, even when Yahaba’s voice tried to soothe him.

“Shigeru, why?” he said, out of the blue.

“Why what, Kyou?” Yahaba responded, gently caressing the unruly curls that fell around Kyoutani’s forehead.

“Why does life have to be this way?”

“I don’t know,” he stopped his fingers, then rested his head underneath Kyoutani’s chin. “But please, you need rest. Close your eyes and sleep. I know it’ll take a while, but at least try.” 

“I know, Shigeru. I really know, but I want to know why you had to die. I want to know why Kunimi and Watari died too. I want to know why my father is such an evil man,” he sighed, turning onto his side, his arm cupping around where Yahaba’s body would be.

“I can’t answer that, Kyou. I wish I could, but I’m not your father, I couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to,” he said honestly, his body curling into Kyoutani’s embrace under the covers. 

He pulled the blankets closer to his chin, slowly sliding his eyes shut. The blankets deflated where he thought Yahaba was, proving that Kyoutani was truly alone. He clenched the sheets, angrily huffing out of his nose. He cracked his eyes open just in time to see a shadow outside the window raise some sort of bar. He let out a strangled whimper, scrambling to sit up against his headboard. 

The bar came down, slamming into the window, the glass shattering all across the floor. The curtains billowed, blown in from the outside breeze. A large silhouette stepped into the room through the broken panes, their boots crunching over the shards.

“Hello, Kyoutani Kentarou. I’ve come to kill another one of your friends. Which one do you choose? Iwaizumi Hajime, or Oikawa Tooru?” the silhouette, voice indicating the intruder to be a man. A very familiar man.

“You… you’re the one who killed Kunimi and Watari,” he whispered, face paling at the flood of memories that cascaded into his mind. The bang on the door, the bullet clinking onto the smooth gym floor, Kindaichi pleading and crying for Kunimi’s life. 

“Yes, and I’m not leaving until you tell me which one you’d prefer to see dead, then fulfill your request,” he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Shigeru,” Kyoutani mumbled helplessly as we curled into his blanket, shoving himself harder against the headboard. “Shigeru, please, I’m scared…”

“What are you muttering on about, Kyoutani?” the man grinned, leaning on his hand, facing Kyoutani with his sickening, teasing smile.

“Please, just leave, I’ll die, I promise,” he spoke louder. “I’ll die, I’ll die, I’ll do what my father wants and I’ll die. Just please leave them be, let them live.”

Two pairs of footsteps thundered down the stairs, some shouting becoming decipherable. “Tooru, stay away from the door!”

The door was kicked open, and Iwaizumi stood with a baseball bat, and Oikawa had armed himself with a knife. The man on the bed laughed. “You’re all so cute, trying your best to defend against me.” He leaned back, then extracted something from his belt. “It’s so laughable, you pitiful children.”

“Please! I said I’ll die, just leave them alone!” Kyoutani shot up from his bed, and he tried to leap onto the man to disarm him, but the only thing that brought Kyoutani was a sharp elbow to the ribs. He coughed and sputtered, his eyes widening and narrowing as his vision began to blur. 

“Pick one, Kyoutani.” He yanked Kyoutani up by his ear and spat his poison words right into it. “Iwaizumi, or Oikawa?”

“Let him go!” Oikawa screeched, the knife held in front of himself defensively.

“Tooru, I said stay away from the doorway!” Iwaizumi gritted his teeth together, his feet grounded on the floor. 

“Iwaizumi Hajime is protective and strong, clearly used to being attacked mercilessly,” he mused. “Ah, I think I know which one I should eliminate.” He positioned the gun, facing it to the door and resting his finger on the trigger.

“Wait, wait no!” Oikawa began to move, but Iwaizumi snatched the knife from his hands and body-slammed him, causing him to cry out in pain and crash to the ground.

“This is what I meant, Tooru,” he barked, tossing the knife to the side harshly. “Take care of Kyoutani for me.”

The intruder stood, then heard the sirens in the distance. “Smart kids, aren’t cha? Well, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

Gunshots rang out. One, two, three. One hit the wall, another pierced the door, and third… a shriek of fear followed it.

“HAJIME!” Oikawa screamed from his place on the hardwood floor outside the bedroom. 

The man took one last look at the scene, then curled his lips into a sinister smile and climbed back outside through the window.

Kyoutani couldn’t move a single muscle, not even as Oikawa began applying pressure to the bullet wound. “Shigeru… you died just like this,” his voice was faint and distant and weak. “Even when I tried my best, you still left me.”

Oikawa’s movements became slow motion in Kyoutani’s eyes. He just sat, head tilted, irises expanding and retracting in flurries of emotions. “Why is that, Shigeru?”

No answer.

“Oh, you’ve left me again.”

_ Crack. _

“HAJIME, PLEASE I CAN’T LOSE YOU TOO!”

_ Shigeru, I don’t want to live anymore. Not when I know this is all my fault. I’m so sorry, Shigeru, but I’ll be joining you soon. I can’t keep holding on like this. _

“Kawa,” Iwaizumi rasped, a shaking hand reaching for his. “Love you so much, please… watch over Kyoutani. It’ll all be okay, I promise…”

“No! Hajime, please!” Oikawa took the hand and held it to his lips, frantically pleading into it. “Please, I can’t lose you too!”

“I’m sorry, Kawa. I won’t be able to see you kick Japan’s ass when you’re older,” he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

“No!” he yelled. “Stay alive, hold on for me! For Kyoutani! And Makki, and Mattsun!”

But Iwaizumi didn’t respond. He just smiled, taking in the final sight of his beloved. “Smile for me, Tooru.”

“What?” his breath hitched.

“I want to see your smile once again before I die,” his fingers raised up, tracing Oikawa’s soft chocolate locks.

“N-” he broke off, then pursed his quivering lips together. “O-okay…”

“Thank you, Kawa,” he cupped Oikawa’s cheek as the boy smiled, limp and weak but meaningful. He kissed Oikawa’s ring finger as soon as it reached his mouth. “Goodbye, my love.”

“Wait, Haji-” Oikawa began to protest, but it was too late. The doors burst open, with Kyoutani soon rushing to Oikawa’s side. He hitched his mouth open, tears evident in his eyes. Oikawa cut him off. “He’s gone, Kyoutani.”

A beat of agonizing yet familiar silence. 

_ Crack. _

“No, please no,” he whispered. “Not him too, please not him too…”

Oikawa took Kyoutani into his arms, biting his tears back for Kyoutani’s sake. The younger knelt down, his forehead pressed against the railing of the hospital bed. He just sat there, cursing his father and the cruelty of the world.

Reality finally struck Oikawa, and he squeezed Kyoutani’s shoulder. “Hey, stay here for me, okay? I’m going to take a walk,” he muttered. “I need some alone time. I’ll tell you if you need to get home.”

“Okay.”

“Stay safe.”

“You too.”

Oikawa exited the room, his pace quick as he found his way out of the hospital. He inhaled deeply, the sharp wind slapping him in the face. His tears burned in his eyes, cascading down his cheeks and wetting his shirt. He walked down the sidewalk, then did the only thing he thought reasonable. He started to run.

With only the moon as his source of faded light, Oikawa had no idea where he was going or where he was for that matter. He just ran and ran and ran, tears flying off his face. Eventually, he stopped, collapsing onto a bench near a large building that sent bright flashes of light in all directions. His knee screamed at him, but he ignored the pain. He curled up, shoving his nose between his knees. His jeans became soaked, but that didn't matter. Everything was now just a minor inconvenience. 

“Hey, are you okay?” a voice called from above.

Oikawa swiped his tears with his sleeve, looking up to see a tall teenage boy, his only visible eye filled with concern. “No,” he pulled his head down. “Where am I?”

“You're close to the mall by Karasuno,” the boy sat next to Oikawa. “You're Seijoh's captain, yeah?”

“And you're Nekoma's,” he forced out. “Look, I don't want to talk. I just need to-” he choked back a sob.

“Hey, calm down. It's okay, we don't need to talk, but I'll be here,” he lifted an arm, offering his warmth to Oikawa.

The shorter, who had just realized how cold he was, scooted and leaned into Kuroo's side. “Why are you here?” he asked, desperately trying to keep his mind occupied. 

“We've been having some practice matches with Karasuno,” he explained, comfortingly running his fingers up and down Oikawa's arm. “But something just told me to get out here, to look for something.”

“No, I'm sorry. I must be keeping you, I highly doubt it's me. Please, get going. I can't waste anymore of your time,” Oikawa tried to move, but Kuroo just held on tighter.

“I'm sorry, but I can't do that. You're clearly hurting, both emotionally and physically. I'm not leaving you alone like this,” he argued. He picked up his phone, texting someone. “Come on, I'll take you back to wherever you came from.”

“No, you don’t have to,” he shook his head immediately. After a minute, he spoke again. “Fine, we’ll just sit here for a bit. I don’t think I can face the hospital right now.”

“Hospi- oh,” his fingers curled around Oikawa’s arm. “Alright, but whenever you want to go home, I’ll take the bus with you and make sure you’re okay.”

“Why? Why, Kuroo?” he whispered. “Why are you so kind? So caring? We barely know each other.”

“Because I know what’s going on with your team. It’s on the news all over, even in Tokyo. And, frankly I’m so worried for you, Oikawa,” he sighed, his breath visible in the atmosphere. “You adore your team. I’ve watched some of your games, and I’ve seen how you bring out the absolute best in your team, and they bring out the absolute best in you. You’re a wonderful captain, and I kinda look up to you like that. But now, you’ve lost so much, so many people. I know this isn’t the worst or most you’ve cried. It’s just that I think you’ve gotten almost used to this, and that’s the worst feeling possible. But, if you’re comfortable, I’ll take you home and you can let it all out to me.”

Oikawa was quiet, the only sound audible was his occasional hitched breath. “Kuroo… he’s gone.”

“Shh,” he hushed. “It’s okay. Let me get you home and then we’ll talk, okay?” He stood up, Oikawa under his wing.

“Okay,” he said hesitantly. 

“Alright, lean on me. I can tell you’re limping,” he held Oikawa up, supporting his heavy, tired, aching body.

“Okay,” he hung his head. “Thank you, Kuroo.” 

He semi-carried Oikawa to the nearest bus stop, only a couple blocks away. They sat on the bench, waiting for the bus to arrive in silence. Oikawa leaned himself against Kuroo, his nose sniffing every so often. After some quiet moments, two large, beaming headlights came into view. Kuroo patted Oikawa’s shoulder, alerting him to get ready to stand.

“What stop would be the closest to your house, Oikawa?” he asked.

“Maybe the fifth or sixth,” he answered, squinting at the map on the plastic walls of the stop. “Yeah, sixth stop. It’s a block away from my house.”

“Alright. Come on,” he stood, wrapping his arms around Oikawa’s upper body and hoisting him up, careful of his knee. The bus slowed to a stop in front of them, and they boarded, Kuroo handing the driver some coins before they took their seats. Oikawa settled himself in the closest thing to a corner he could find, and Kuroo sat beside him with about three inches of space in between them. 

The ride was uneventful, to each boy their own world. For Oikawa, despair. For Kuroo, confusion and worry. But, their worlds were only joined and accompanied by the quiet chugging of the bus. It moved and stopped at each designated rest, and by the time they reached Oikawa’s stop, it was close to one thirty in the morning.

Kuroo helped Oikawa hobble down the steps, giving a wave of thanks to the driver before starting down the uneven pathway. He watched in remorse as Oikawa stumbled over his own feet a few times every so often but once they got a rhythm, the chocolate haired boy just hopped along with Kuroo. 

The shorter male pulled his keys from his pocket, fiddling with them for a moment before reaching his hand towards the front door of his house. Kuroo stepped them both inside, and Oikawa immediately began to sniffle as soon as the door was secured and locked.

“Hey, I can make something for you to eat, okay?” Kuroo offered, but Oikawa shook his head.

“I can’t eat, I wouldn’t be able to after he just…” He shoved his hands into his hair, pulling and tugging harshly at the soft brown strands. 

“Alright, let’s just go sit, then. You’ll need ice and rest for your knee,” he lightly touched Oikawa’s wrists, bringing them down from his hair. “You’ll be okay, I promise.”

“No, I don’t want to hear any promises, because if you make a promise, you’ll be taken too, you’ll leave too, I can’t take it, I won’t be able to take it,” he rambled, tears pricking his eyes. “Please, no promises, Kuroo, please,” he pleaded, pushing his face into Kuroo’s chest. “No promises, please no promises.”

“Okay, I’m sorry,” he shushed Oikawa, stroking from the top of his head to the base of his neck. “I won’t make any promises, Oikawa.”

“Thank you, thank you, Kuroo,” he whispered. 

The taller male nodded once, then gingerly picked up the broken boy. He carried him to the couch, setting him down carefully and reassuring him that he’ll be back in just a minute. 

When Kuroo returned to the living room, Oikawa was crying into his knees, gripping the injured one and whimpering. It made Kuroo’s heart crack. If he was being honest, he had always admired Oikawa outside of volleyball. Kenma called him strange for liking someone as childish as the Seijoh captain, but that was a reason why Kuroo always found himself watching Oikawa’s games, and striving to become a better captain. Oikawa was so calm and collected, as well as trusting, dependable and yes, childish. 

But Oikawa was also so very strong and so much more determined to win than anyone Kuroo knew. Besides Karasuno’s number ten, of course. But even Oikawa was more determined than the little pipsqueak.

To see the brunette cry in front of him, to watch as he shattered from the inside out, it all made Kuroo so angry, so very angry at whoever caused him this much pain. As he placed the ice pack on Oikawa’s knee, he felt the boy shake and shudder under his gentle touch. He sat on the cushion next to him, and Oikawa turned to press his forehead onto Kuroo’s shoulder.

“It’ll be on the news soon, but I wa-want you to know before then,” Oikawa mustered, his voice uneven and as shaky as his body. “Kuroo, are you okay with knowing the full story?”

“Yes, if I can do anything to help, I want to know,” he said quietly, rubbing his hand up and down Oikawa’s arm.

“It’s been about two and a half months since this started. It began when Yahaba was shot and killed in a store robbery,” he began, and he inhaled deeply, mentally preparing himself. “But, the robber was supposed to kill Kyoutani instead.”

Kyoutani returned home at around three in the morning after roaming outside aimlessly. When he shoved the door open, the first thing he saw was Oikawa sleeping against an unfamiliar body. He stiffened, eyes wide with the terrible possibilities. He silently made for the couch, and he got a closer look at the unknown figure. He gave a breath of relief.  _ Just Nekoma’s captain- wait, why is Nekoma’s captain here? _

He decided against waking them and instead just laid on the floor by Oikawa’s feet. He didn’t have enough strength to even think of going to a bedroom. This wasn’t Iwaizumi’s house, he didn’t know where anything was, so he just situated himself right on Oikawa’s feet, curled up into a tiny ball. He pulled a blanket from the couch down over his cold body, and closed his eyes.

“Please, if you can hear me, Shigeru, please just talk to me,” he requested, voice hushed as to not awake Oikawa nor the Nekoma captain.

“Sleep, Kyoutani. I’m here.”

_ Kyoutani opened his eyes to see Yahaba lying next to him, the covers pulled taught over his bare shoulders. His eyes were closed lightly, peacefully, as air traveled into his mouth and out of his nose. His light brown strands of hair wisped over his face, caressing his forehead and cheeks smoothly. Dear God, how Kyoutani missed this boy. _

_ “Shiga,” he smiled affectionately, his fingers curling around the other male’s cheek. He brought him close, planting a soft kiss to his nose. Yahaba shifted, but did not wake. Kyoutani chuckled lightly. “You’re so adorable, my perfect wife.” Another kiss to the male’s face later, his eyelids fluttered open. _

_ “Mnm, Kentarou?” he asked, his hand reaching up to rub his eyes. _

_ “Yes, Shiga?” he mused, a goofy smile spreading across his face as he just gazed at his beautiful wife.  _

_ “I love you,” he mumbled. “But I want to sleep.” _

_ “I’m not stopping you, Shiga,” he grasped Yahaba’s fingers. “Go ahead and go back to sleep, I’ll be here, right here.” _

_ “Mh-hm, okay,” he yawned, and drifted off to sleep once more.  _

_ Kyoutani laid on his side, silently admiring the beauty before him. He pulled the sleeping male to his chest, hugging him tenderly underneath his chin. Here, in the sunkissed bedroom of their honeymoon suite, Kyoutani felt the happiest he’s ever been. All of his worries, doubts, and fears melted away, swiped to the side by love and contentment.  _

_ Now this, this was what he truly dreamed of. This was his only hope, his unreachable goal. He only wanted this, a future with his wife. He wanted to grow up, get married, adopt kids, and get old with the only love of his life. Here, he was happy, even if he knew it was fake. It was still nice to dream, wasn’t it? _

“Oikawa, Kyoutani, I want you two to come with me back to Tokyo,” was the first thing Kyoutani heard the next morning. 

“Wait, what?” Oikawa jolted up, nearly tripping over Kyoutani’s body that still lay near his feet. Luckily, Kuroo caught his teetering body and guided him away from Kyoutani. 

“You need to leave, to get out of their boundaries. If you come to Tokyo with me, they’ll have a harder time finding you. I can keep you safe, and the Tokyo police won’t fail you,” he held Oikawa by the shoulders. 

Kyoutani sat upright, looking between his captain and Nekoma’s. “You’ll be in danger too. I’m not dragging you into this.”

“It will give us time. From what Oikawa told me earlier, they know almost everything about you. But, they don’t know me. They’d have no reason to know me, because I’ve just now came into the picture. If we leave right away, they won’t even know where you’ve gone because they don’t know I’m here,” he said sternly. “It’s the safest and best option.”

Oikawa opened his mouth to protest, but then closed it and pressed his lips into a thin, remorseful line. “Fine, okay, we’ll go to Tokyo,” he surrendered. “But the moment something weird happens, you are leaving and you’re not going to get dragged into this any further.”

“I-”

“You’ll leave. And not get dragged into this anymore,” Oikawa repeated, glaring at Kuroo.

“Okay, deal,” he finally agreed. “Pack up, we’re leaving as soon as possible. I told my coach that I’m bringing you two with me.”

“Is that even allowed?” Kyoutani remarked as he pushed himself up to his feet. 

“Well, normally, absolutely not. However,” he sighed, running a quick hand through his hair. “Come on, let’s just get going. We want to leave before they realize.”

He ushered them up, beckoning for them to pack some bags. “And wear something that covers your heads. It’s raining a little, so hoods wouldn’t be suspicious.”

“Kuroo, how do you know what to do?” Oikawa asked as soon as he came back downstairs, a loaded drawstring bag over his shoulders.

“I just do,” he admitted. “Now, go get a quick snack to eat while we wait for Kyoutani.”

Said boy was panicking. He didn’t want to drag Kuroo or anyone Kuroo’s close to into this either. All he wanted to do was end this, and that meant he had to give up completely. He just wanted all the pain and suffering to end, so he was prepared and ready to give up at the drop of a hat… or the pull of a trigger. Even at the point of a dagger. He exhaled sharply as he snatched up a bag, shoveling whatever things he deemed to be useful or necessary. 

He jogged down the stairs, and Kuroo handed him a granola bar. “Pull up your hoods and let’s go.” 

The drive to Tokyo was uneventful, but Nekoma was loud and rambunctious. Sure, the Seijoh team had been chaotic, but this was on a whole nother level. A banana almost smacked Kyoutani in the head a couple times. But once they reached the school, Kyoutani seemed to calm down, even just a little. A short, dusty haired boy kicked the tall Russian boy in the ass as soon as they were off the bus. The Russian boy just laughed, and picked the shorter boy up from the underarms, carrying him like a cat. Meanwhile, the short setter walked with a boy with a stubby, blonde mohawk, playing on a small console.

Kyoutani watched his feet as he walked, Oikawa holding his arm to guide him. Kuroo talked with the brunette animatedly, speaking of all the things they could do in the Tokyo residency. He thought that maybe it was a good idea to come to Tokyo, get an escape from the absolute hell in Miyagi. He smiled to himself for the first time in forever.  _ Maybe… maybe I won’t have to give up after all. Maybe I can find any sort of way to heal from this, even though everyone was irreplaceable.  _

The wind grasped his hand, and he squeezed it.  _ Thank you for staying with me, Shigeru. I won’t join you, not yet. _

The next week was quiet and uneventful. It was unusually tranquil, and it filled Kyoutani with unease. He was currently sitting on Kuroo’s couch, whatever random show was on at five in the evening. He heard Kuroo enter, calling out a greeting. 

“Hey,” Kyoutani responded. 

“Has Oikawa come back from the store yet?” Kuroo asked, taking his shoes off and entering Kyoutani’s peripheral.

“Hm? Oh, no. Not yet. But it has been a while, and he probably would have texted me if he was running late,” he sighed. “I wouldn’t blame him for forgetting, though.”

Kuroo’s eyes widened. “No, no no, he said if he ever got caught up in something, like traffic or whatever, he’d  _ always _ tell us. It was part of our deal. Kyoutani, call him. Right now.”

Catching Kuroo’s underlying meaning, Kyoutani scrambled to grab up his phone from his back pocket. He fumbled with the buttons, then pressed the call icon on Oikawa’s number. It rang for a short while, then was sent to voicemail. Kyoutani’s hands dropped, the phone slipping and clattering onto the carpet. “Kuroo, he didn’t answer.”

“Shit…”

About ten minutes before Kuroo got home, Oikawa was on his way back. With his small bag of groceries, he felt good about today. He had gotten a good deal on the snacks he’d been wanting to try for a while, as well as finding a coupon for the dinner items Kuroo asked for him to pick up. He walked with a skip in his step, but also a slight limp, which he happily ignored.  _ I’ll ice it when I get back to Kuroo’s, _ he decided, and he felt a small smile creep onto his lips. But, it soon crawled off when he heard some footsteps begin to follow him. 

A soft chuckle, then some incoherent whispers from the people behind him.  _ My knee is still injured. I won’t be able to run if this is what I think it is. _ He felt a shiver run down his spine at the thought. His expression shifted to one of absolute horror.  _ I’m completely defenseless. I can’t run, I can’t hide, I can’t fight. I’m going to die. Hajime, please save me, please just come and save me, I don’t want to die. _

He exhaled a tiny breath, trying his best to remain as calm as possible. But, alas, it was very much impossible. The bags shifted in his hands, his palms sweating nervously.  _ Please, I don’t want to die. _

The footsteps drew nearer, and eventually, Oikawa could feel hot breath reach the back of his neck. He stifled a whimper, but continued walking slowly. He tried his hardest to not fall, may it be figuratively or literally. This silent, stalking aura remained in place for the next five minutes, then another chuckle. 

“You’re a brave kid, aren’t cha?” the man behind him hissed right above his ear. Oikawa shivered at the proximity. “Come on, I promise I won’t bite. Can’t say the same for my boss, though. He’s a lot worse than just quiet walks and empty threats. You may know him. He’s the one who sent all those men to kill off your friends. And now, he wants you, Oikawa Tooru.” 

Two fingers began to run up Oikawa’s arm, and he bit back a sob of fear.  _ Please, Hajime, I don’t want to die! _

“Come along, now, don’t be stubborn. We’ll take great care of you,” he made that vow with a low drop of his voice. “But know that if you don’t come quietly, we won’t hesitate to just kill you.”

“Ok-okay! Okay, I’ll go,” he burst, shaking in terror. “Just please, don’t kill anyone else, I’m begging you!” 

“Now that,  _ I _ can’t promise. But maybe you could ask the boss directly,” he grinned, wrapping a large hand around Oikawa’s wrist. “I have a feeling you and him will become quite acquainted with each other.” He guided Oikawa across the street at the next stoplight, then led him down a few blocks, his hand on the boy’s shoulder to keep him close. 

Soon enough, they reached a simple building, inconspicuous for the boss of hitmen, perfect for hiding out. Oikawa scanned the surroundings, but there was nothing around, not for blocks in every direction. It was a stand-alone building, with plenty of room to stash a teenage boy in case the cops ever find the place. 

Oikawa officially lost all hope for himself. He would never be found. He would never be free.  _ Hajime, save me.  _

Oikawa was alone in the dark room, with nothing but a small glass of water and a ceramic plate of food, as well as a blanket for him to sleep with. But, that was it. He got no luxuries at all, not that he expected any. He had lost count of the days he was there. There were cuts and bruises along his body, and his lip dripped blood, but honestly, those were the least of his problems.

“Hajime, what’s going to happen to me?” he murmured through chapped lips.

No response. But, that was like most days. He never got a single word out of the man he so wished could protect him. He pressed his temple against the wall, cheek against the rough texture. He fiddled with the hardwood floorings, fingernails sticking themselves in the minute cracks between the planks. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to not burst into tears. He heaved a sigh, shifting himself so he could sit comfortably on the floor. The door squealed open, and after some loud footsteps nearing him, Oikawa felt a hand smack his head, then his plate and water cup were whisked away. He whimpered at the contact, but remained against the wall. That was how it always played out. Every single time someone entered that room, he was struck.

He coughed a few times, throat dry from the lack of sustenance he had been consuming. Something seemed to clink to the floor, but the door was slammed before it was picked up. Oikawa turned his head, wiping his eyes in order to see the fallen object. To Oikawa’s surprise, and slight excitement, it was his phone. The screen was cracked around the edges, but it was intact and usable. 

He quietly pulled himself over to the device, a few tears of joy escaping and gravitating to the floor. Without a single decipherable thought in his head, he pulled up his contacts. He knew he would only have a short amount of time, and his fingers were far too shaky to text readable sentences. Besides, they had already slipped and called the first person he could think of.

The call was answered immediately. “Oikawa!”

“Kuroo, shh,” Oikawa whispered into the phone. He crawled back to the blanket on the floor, nuzzling himself on top. “Kuroo, I’m okay, I’m alive. Tell Kyoutani. And please-”

A quick moment of silence, in which Oikawa listened to the footsteps outside, but none reached his room. “Kuroo, please save me,” he scrambled to speak, his voice cracking. 

“Oikawa, where are you?”

“I don’t know, I don’t remember where he took me, but it’s a standalone building, that’s for sure,” he lowered his tone, cupping his hand over his mouth to muffle it further. 

“Hey, it’ll all be okay, I promise. I’ll find you, and you’ll be safe. Do you trust me?”

Oikawa hesitated. He didn’t want a repeat of what happened with Iwaizumi. His lip trembled, and he didn’t know how to respond.

“Oikawa?”

“I’ll trust you, Kuroo,” he managed finally, and he heard an exhale from the other line.

“Alright, now I’ll fulfill my promise and you’ll be safe again,” he vowed. Just his simple words calmed Oikawa into a strange form of tranquility, but all of that vanished within an instant when he sensed the doorknob jiggling as it was unlocked. 

“Kuroo, someone’s here, please come quick,” he cringed into his blanket. “Kuroo, I’m so scared.” Some tears flooded from his eyes, terrified droplets staining the already-made tear scars on his cheeks.

“Breathe, stop talking and hide the phone. You’ll be okay,” he spoke quickly, and Oikawa was fast to tuck the phone underneath his blanket. He rolled over on top of the blanket, curling into himself to attempt to hide the phone.

The door swung open again, and Oikawa faltered at the stern voice that barked at him. “You little brat, where’s the phone?”

It was Kyoutani’s father.

“I-I don’t have it,” he rasped, eyes wide as he faced the wall. “I swear, I don’t have it.”

“Mh-hm, you lying brat.” A kick to his spine forced him off the blanket, which was soon ripped from the floor. “Oh? What’s this? Who are you talking to, you pathetic child?” he spat, and Oikawa scurried to press himself against the wall. 

He couldn’t answer, and the man smirked at him, picking up the phone and putting it on speaker. “Listen here, person-on-the-phone, I don’t want you to hang up. If you do, I’ll kill the boy. Understand?”

“No! Please, don’t hurt him!” Kuroo pleaded, a few thumps were heard from his side, as if he was running and bumping into things. “Please!”

“Well, he broke the rules, yes? No phones after curfew,” he snarled. “You, boy, get over here. We’re taking a little trip downstairs.”

Oikawa forced himself to his wobbly legs, and the man snatched his wrist, dragging him through the hallways and into a different room down the creaking stairs. He was tossed to the cement ground harshly, landing on his elbow with a soft cry. “Now, I want you to listen to what is going on here, person-on-the-phone,” he grinned. “I want you to listen  _ very _ closely.”

“Wh-what are you going to do?!” Oikawa burst, and shut up once he was answered with a sharp glare.

“You’ll see, now shut that rambling mouth of yours before I seal it shut,” he snapped, and Oikawa obeyed, his irises shaking and lips trembling as he struggled to stay silent. “Wonderful! Now, get up onto that chair.” He gestured his head to the chair in the center of the room, and Oikawa yet again followed his direction. “Alright, now relax, and don’t move.” Thick leather straps were secured around Oikawa’s wrists and ankles, and he felt his stomach churn, bile building up in the back of his throat. “Person-on-the-phone, talk to our friend, yes? I’ll be back in a moment, I just need to grab something,” he placed the phone on the table, and left the room. 

“Kuroo, Kuroo please I’m so scared, I want to go home, I want to leave, I don’t want to be here!” he rambled, hysteric streams of tears cascading down his sheet-pale cheeks.

“Oikawa, calm down. We’ll find you, Kyoutani is calling the police right now, they might be able to track the phone call, so please hold on,” he assured him, but then Kyoutani’s father entered the room once more, something clutched in his hands, yet hidden behind his back.

“Oh, don’t worry. The police will never find you. This call will be over long before they’ll ever be able to reach you,” he grinned, and walked a few paces closer to the chair, with Oikawa struggling and fidgeting in the seat.

“K-K-K-Kuroo, please!” he pleaded in the general direction of the phone. “Find me, right now!”

“We’re working on it, Oikawa!” 

The man’s hand found itself on Oikawa’s head, gently stroking his hair. “I’m going to need you to breathe and relax, okay? This will hurt,” he sang, grinning like a madman.

“Wh-wh-what? No! Please, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” he thrashed against the restraints, vigorously shaking his head as he swore and begged. “I’m sorry! I won’t do it again, I swear!”

“Mh-hmm, you sure won’t after this,” he swung his hidden hand in front of himself, and the object curled in his palm made Oikawa almost scream at the mere sight of it.

It was a hammer, large and heavy. The top clicked against the leg of the chair, gently grazing Oikawa’s skin on his shin, just above his ankle. It raised, both sinister hands clutching the handle. “Breathe in, breathe out, and don’t forget to scream!”

“TESTUROU PLE-” Oikawa’s word was violently cut off by an scream of pure agony. He could feel the bone of his kneecap shatter, the pieces snapping apart and squirming inside his flesh. Another rough shriek ripped from his throat as the restraints were removed and he was shoved to the floor, landing right onto the knee. He couldn’t hold himself up, and he curled in on himself, only to feel even more excruciating pain. He rolled onto his back, not daring to move another inch as he sobbed.

His knee jostled with every slight movement, crying, and pleading, and the cause of this pain  _ laughed _ as if he were watching a comedy skit.

“Oikawa? TOORU ANSWER ME!” Kuroo’s voice was right by his ear now, the phone pressing up against the side of his face, and those filthy, evil fingers were holding it up.

“Tet… su…” Oikawa whispered, then fainted, the torture in his knee too much for him to bear.

“Would you like a picture, Kuroo Tetsurou? Or was this audio more than enough for you?”

Silence.

“Well then, go ahead and hang up. I hope you enjoyed the show,” he grinned, tossing the hammer to the side. “You’ll never hear from him again until I get what I want.”

_ Beep. _

“Haha,” he chuckled. “Smart boy.” He shifted his gaze down to Oikawa’s unconscious body. “Now you, on the other hand. You’re iditotic and naive to even dream of getting out of here unscathed. Sleep well~”

Kuroo took the phone off his face, and Kyoutani could see that look of absolute despair on his features. “Oikawa’s… been hurt.”

_ Crack. _

“It’s going to keep happening until I die, so why can’t you just let me die?!” he demanded, and the only response he received was a slap to the face.

However, it wasn’t from Kuroo. The older male was all the way across the room. The person who had struck him began yelling in his ear. 

“YOU ARE  _ NOT _ GIVING UP, KYOUTANI KENTAROU. IF YOU DO, I’LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!”

“Shigeru, we don’t HAVE TIME TO ARGUE AGAIN!” he whipped around to face the voice. “You know that! You know it won’t end! You still say that I can’t give up even after Oikawa’s been badly hurt, and could be killed at any moment!”

“I wouldn’t be able to face you if you just died right now, Kyoutani! I don’t want to see you again until you’ve lived!”

“YOU’RE BEING SELFISH!” His hand flew out, striking the place where Yahaba’s cheek would have been, then he stopped, but the hit had already been initiated and followed through with.

The house was filled with terrible silence, then Yahaba’s voice ceased to respond. 

“Wait, no, Shiga, come back!” his eyes filled with panic. “Don’t leave me again! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you!”

“Kyoutani… no one’s here,” Kuroo’s hand dropped the phone onto the carpet.

“What do you mean? Shigeru was just here!” he barked. “A-a-and now he’s mad at me, so I have to find him so I can fix this!”

_ Crack. _

Kuroo watched as Kyoutani began to fumble around the house, calling for the boy that wasn’t even there. He felt his heart shatter when Kyoutani shed a few tears of absolute desperation, and all he could do was sit on the couch, face in his hands, wishing and praying that he would be able to see Oikawa alive.

Meanwhile, Yahaba was seething with more than just anger. It was a generous mix of despair, rage, and worry. He paced around, biting his nails until they bled. He didn’t even know how it was possible to bleed in the afterlife, but apparently it was. And for some reason, Kyoutani’s hand seemed to actually strike him, as his cheek was burning red and stinging from the blow. But that was certainly the least of his problems. 

“Yahaba, take a breather-”

“NO!” he snapped, then bit his tongue. “Sorry, sorry, I’m just-”

“I know,” Iwaizumi sighed sharply. “Don’t apologize, I understand where you’re coming from. But please, take a seat and breathe.”

Yahaba contemplated his options, then huffed angrily. He shoved himself against the wall, crossing his arms and stuffing his head between his knees. “Hey, Iwaizumi-san?”

“Yeah?” 

“Why haven’t you gone to Oikawa-san?”

“Because I want him to move on from me. It’s easier when you’re not always in their head, you know? Easier on both of you,” he mused, leaning against the wall. “But in your case, I know Kyoutani needs you, so I wouldn’t stop talking to him.”

“What do I do?” he asked, but didn’t even bother to look up. “He’s losing himself, and it hurts, Iwaizumi-san.”

“I don’t know what you should do, but just prepare for the worst. Given the rate of things, we’re going to be seeing him a lot sooner than we hoped.” 

“Kindaichi, I’m leaving today,” Kageyama whispered at the end of the movie that just finished watching. “Will you be okay?”

“Mhm, I’ll be fine,” he gave a genuine smile for the first time in weeks, and that made Kageyama’s heart flutter.

“If you ever need anything, so just want me to visit, call me and I’ll drop absolutely everything,” he reached for Kindaichi’s hands, which were granted to him. He clutched them tightly, reassuringly, proving he was ready to sacrifice his own time just for Kindaichi. And that caused a few tears to escape both of their eyes.

Kindaichi leaned in, his forehead resting onto Kageyama’s collarbone before shifting to tuck over the latter’s shoulder. He wrapped his arms around Kindaichi’s body, pulling him into a close, fierce yet tender, embrace. A hand brushed through the matted black locks, and the boy let out a content sigh. “Thank you for everything, Kageyama.”

“Don’t thank me, it’s the absolute least I could do,” he hummed into Kindaichi’s ear, and hugged him tighter. “From now on, I promise to always be here for you.”

“From now on, I entrust you with Yuutarou, Kageyama,” Kunimi whispered, but didn’t cease speaking. “And Yuutarou, I love you, so learn to be happy without me.” He planted a soft kiss on his lips before fading into just a memory, never to be heard from again until the time was right.

“You just heard Kunimi, too?” Kageyama carded his fingers through the hair under his chin, and the head nodded. “Well then, we have no choice but to listen to him, yeah?”

“Mh-hm,” Kindaichi agreed, and his own hand opened up, exposing his palm. Inside, a small thread from a couch pillow lay. He had pulled it out anxiously just a few minutes before, but now he just released it. It floated gracefully onto the carpet, wedging itself between soft floorings. He imagined it to be his hold on Kunimi, still there and within reach, but not so tightly held onto.

It was a strange form of acceptance, but it worked. The weight on Kindaichi’s shoulders lifted; he could breathe easily again. He would never forget the boy he loved, it was impossible, but at least he could live without him. And wasn’t that what mattered the most?

March first, the birthday of Yahaba, was the worst time for all of this. However, it was planned, all planned. Kyoutani just knew it. First, it was that phone call early in the morning, and Kyoutani almost ripped his ears off and tossed them into the garbage disposal.

At six in the morning, Kyoutani was awoken by his phone ringing nonstop. It was loud, and annoying, but he answered it with a newfound vigor once he realized it was his father. He remembered that phone call before, which felt like it was just yesterday, but it wasn’t. It was about three days ago, but all the days in between felt fuzzy and unmemorable, so Kyoutani didn’t even try.

But, that day hit him like a truck. He wanted so badly to undo what he had done to Yahaba, he wanted to make up for his mistakes, but the light brown haired male was nowhere to be soon ever since then. 

However, the aura behind this new phone call was new, and even more sinister. He answered it, fully prepared to immediately give up his life, but there was no voice of his father on the other line. Instead, someone was crying. Two people, actually. One was male… and the other female. 

“Tetsurou… Tetsurou please find me, I don’t want to die, please I don’t want to die!” the male voiced wailed, sniffles accompanying the soft sobs.

“Oikawa,” Kyoutani breathed, and was about to hang up when a sharper voice spoke.

“Hang up and I’ll kill him,” he spat, but a smile was clear behind his tone. “Oh, and would you like to speak with the woman here? I’m sure she’d have plenty to say to you, Kentarou.”

“W-who is she..?” Kyoutani mustered, and he was terrified of the answer. He didn’t have many women in his life, so he was so horrified by what he thought was true.

“Wow, I would have thought you would recognize the sobbing of your own mother.” Some footsteps, then a harsh sigh, a thud, and a plea from the woman’s lips. “I mean, you’ve heard it so much, Kentarou.”

“Ken… Kentarou..?” the woman spoke, suddenly desperate. “No, no no no Kentarou can’t be here! Please, tell me he’s safe!”

A “m-mom,” came just a notch above a whisper. 

“I’ll let you speak with her, Kentarou. She’s so eager to!” he laughed heartily, then the phone splat onto the ground. “Speak now, pathetic bitch.”

“Mama,” Kyoutani fell to his knees. “Mama, has he hurt you, too?!”

“No no, don’t worry about me, Kentarou,” she spoke quickly, willing to have her words said and not kicked away by the towering man above her. “You’re safe, yes, Kentarou? You’re safe, and away from this?”

“No, Mama,” Kyoutani felt tears burning his eyes. “He’s killed my friends, he’s killed my Shigeru.”

“You lied to me!” she suddenly screeched, away from the phone. “You told me no one was dead!”

A chortle from the sidelines made a shiver strike Kyoutani’s spine. He couldn’t listen anymore. He didn’t want to hear Oikawa’s cries in the background, begging for freedom and Kuroo, nor the laughs of his vile father or the worried shouts of his mother.

“Dad… I’ll die, I promise I’ll die, right here, right now,” he deadpanned, emotions sucked up by the vacuum of grief. “It’s what you wanted, yes? I’ll die, just how I should have instead of Shigeru.”

“No, Kentarou, you can’t!” she yelled frantically, but Kyoutani just shook his head. 

“Mama, he’ll kill you, and he’ll kill Oikawa and Kuroo and whoever else is with me until I finally die. So, I’ve made a decision so die before anyone else does,” he closed his eyes, replaying his finest memories with Yahaba before exhaling a small breath. “I’ll die,” he repeated, but more faint and detached. “Just please, don’t kill anyone else, and set Oikawa free without any more injuries.”

“You have my word, Kentarou,” he began, but there was still a smile in his voice. “But I want to do one more thing, first.”

“Wait, no, please! No, get away fro-” The pleading was cut short, and then another laugh, even more maniac and insane than the others, took its place.

“One shot, two shot, three shot, four, if five people die, why not more, Kentarou!” A song, an evil poem. It filled Kyoutani’s ears and his waking mind. 

_ Shatter. _

He slammed the phone down, shouting a few final words before hanging up. “I’ll die! I’ll die! Let Oikawa live, and I’ll die!”

He barely caught the “Wonderful!” before the beep signalling the end of the call. He stomped into the kitchen, yanking drawer after drawer open before he found what he was looking for. With tears staining his cheeks, and fear clear in his eyes, and jerked his sleeves up to glare at the past scars from knives just like the one in his right palm. Shaking fingers clenched around the handle, and he sloppily aligned it with his wrist.

“Shigeru, Shigeru, Shigeru, watch over me, please bring me back to you,” he prayed, then he began. He couldn’t scream, he couldn’t cry any longer, all he did was cut and stab and slice until the lightheadedness overtook his entire body, and then he was teetering over. 

But it wasn’t like the first time he went to the hospital. He wasn’t just lightheaded, he was so much more than that. His eyes that were so tightly shut were now calmed, and his jaw relaxed. The sharp agony in his wrists shifted beyond just a dull ache, it completely disappeared. Bloodied fingers released the handle, and the last thing he heard was the clink of the blade. 

The very last thought in his head plagued his mind, as he so very much hoped it would come true. 

_ Shigeru, please take me back. _

The wait in between life and death was strange, as if swimming through either slime or putty. It wasn’t natural, very much different, and made Kyoutani’s skin crawl. But, soon enough, a light came to guide him. However, it wasn’t who he had wanted it to be. It was just light, no human hands attached to it whatsoever.

The comforting orb reached its wings for Kyoutani, and embraced him. It took him up, far up, and just when he thought it was about to drop him, he heard a voice.

“Kyoutani!” It was Iwaizumi.

He knew from that one word, that single call, that he was going to the same place as his wife-to-be. The orb carried him down, allowing him to gracefully pad onto safe ground. Ahead of him was a tunnel, with sloppy water and weeds along the edges, but there was an even brighter shine behind it. He narrowed his gaze to try and focus on the figures he could see, but they remained silhouettes.

“Kyoutani!” This person was Watari, and Kyoutani began to walk forwards into the darkened tunnel, willing his feet to continue even when he felt them shudder.

“Kyoutani!” Now it was Kunimi, and Kyoutani’s pace quickened to a speed-walk.

“Kyoutani, come on! Hurry up!” Iwaizumi again, and the boy began to jog, breath increasing as the tunnel stretched farther and the silhouettes shrunk.

“Kentarou, come along,” a woman’s voice, and Kyoutani almost burst into tears. “Come home, my son.”

For each person that called out to him, Kyoutani sped up. Until, there was one certain voice that made him freeze into his tracks, almost losing sight of the silhouettes, before he broke into a desperate sprint. 

“Kyou!”

Kyoutani finally ran into the crowd of people, and he let them embrace him. After a moment, he looked past them to see the man he’d been ruthlessly seperated from. There stood the love of his life; the one he had lost about three months ago.

“Shiga!” he gasped, and the ones hugging him released him in order to propel him forwards with the force of their love, right into the arms of the boy he adored. “Oh Shiga, I’m so sorry,” he mouthed against Yahaba’s shoulder. “I never wanted this, I never wanted this, I never want-”

“Kyou, it’s okay,” he wrapped his arms around the boy, sighing deeply. “I know you didn’t, because under all your tough layers, you care for so many people. I’ve known that for years, so I know  _ you. _ ”

“Oh, Shiga I missed you so much,” he shoved his face into Yahaba’s neck, still spouting off his nonsense.

“I missed you too, Kyou,” he thread his fingers through the thick curls of hair, which had grown and shook away the bleach from those months prior. “But what does it matter now? You’re home… even though I wanted you to find your place without me.”

“I know, but I just can’t do it,” he shook his head, his words muffled by Yahaba’s shoulder. “I can’t live knowing all of you died because of my father… and because of me.”

“No one here blames you, Kentarou. You were trying your best,” he cooed, planting a few kisses atop the matted curls. 

There came a comfortable, understanding silence. The four people had left them alone, so it was quiet and calming. This was all Kyoutani wanted; a peaceful life with his wife-to-be. Even if it wasn’t life, they were together after so much pain and suffering. It was all over now, and all they had to hope for was that Oikawa would be found and saved, without any further damage. But, Kyoutani’s father may be evil and terrible, he was still a man of his word. When he made a deal, he always followed through. 

“Shiga, I want to sleep,” he admitted, and leaned more onto the boy. “I’m so tired.”

“Alright, Kyou. Just a moment,” Yahaba clutched his husband-to-be tighter, and after a moment, they appeared in a house, which seemed to be identical to Kyoutani’s. “This place is strange, you know? All I have to do is think of something, and there it is. Magical, really,” he awed their surroundings, and helped Kyoutani up the stairs. They entered their bedroom, and everything they treasured was there. Pictures, drawings, posters, even their volleyball jerseys hung along the wall.

Kyoutani hummed, and by the time his head hit the soft pillow at the top of the bed, he was already half-asleep. “Sing to me, Shigeru?”

“Of course, Kyou. Just rest your eyes, and I’ll be here when you wake up,” he laid beside Kyoutani, lifting his arms to take the boy under. He inhaled a soft breath, and his harmony began. “We’ll do it all, everything, on our own. We don’t need anything or anyone. If I lay here, if I just lay here.

“Would you lie with me and just forget the world?”

Kyoutani relished in the voice that was real and true now, and the face he hadn’t seen in so long. He fell into peaceful slumber, even with a small smile gracing his lips.

_ God, how I missed you, Shigeru. _

The rotting corpse of the woman had been in the corner for the past week, propped up so its contorted face stared into Oikawa’s soul. No matter where he tried to squirm, the forced-open eyes followed him. He whimpered at the sight, and rolled onto his back. His knee still killed him with every inch of space he shifted, and it got worse each day. He was just so glad that it wasn’t being teased by the man who shattered it, because if it hurt to move, it would sure as hell be torture if someone ever just laid a single finger on it.

He couldn’t even wipe his tears away, so they remained dried and cracked on his face. His lips were chapped, and his eyes were puffy and heavy. His throat could barely form a word anymore, it was far too dry and sore from screaming in agony as well as the lack of water he was given. His stomach had stopped grumbling yesterday, now it just shot strong sharps of pain right to his brain.

Everything around him was fading, and any form of hope he once had was stomped out of existence. Every word he tried to speak was swallowed and replaced with a breathy whimper. His thoughts were mush and unrecognizable, so much so that he was losing his mind. 

Oikawa was dying, slowly but surely. He was a dimming light, never to be seen or relit again. 

_ Maybe… _ he thought, slurred and disoriented, but still there.  _ Maybe all the pain will go away if I just close my eyes… _ Would it? Would it finally be over if he just rested his eyelids, and at the snap of some fingers, he would be with Iwaizumi again?  _ It’s worth a try, _ he deduced, and he did as he wanted to. His irises sank behind his shades, the shudders closed, and the windows were clamped shut.

Everything became cold, but also warm at the same time. Someone was holding his hand, as well as whispering soft words into his ear. “Ha… Hajime..?”

No, it wasn’t Iwaizumi. It was someone different. Was it Watari? Or Kunimi? No, the voice was deeper, but it wasn’t Kyoutani. So, who was speaking such words to him?

_ Oh, _ he finally realized. _ It’s Kuroo.  _ But why would Kuroo be there? Oikawa was so sure he had died in that foul basement, with only the corpse of a friend’s mother watching him. Was Kuroo dead too?

More sounds entered Oikawa’s ear, such as the beep of a machine and the chattering of other people. The smell was strange, but vaguely familiar. But where was he?

Someone stroked his hair, and another hand was on his. 

“Hold on for us, Tooru. Please, hold on for us.”

“M-Makki?” he guessed, and someone gasped.

“He’s talking!” it was the same voice.

“‘S Makki,” Oikawa’s head lolled to the side, eyes scrunched as he tried so hard to focus on that voice. “Ma… Mattsun, too?”

“Yes, Tooru, I’m here too,” this one came from the same direction as the fingers in his hair.

“Tetsu?” he tried. 

Someone right beside him let out a small sob. “I’m here, Tooru.”

Oikawa rolled his head back onto the pillow, and slowly struggled to open up his eyes, only to find it impossible. He felt a thumb swipe underneath his right eye, and the hand stayed on his cheek. 

“You need to rest, Tooru. Please, rest. We’ll be here when you wake up, we promise,” Hanamaki said, and he stroked Oikawa’s hand. 

Oikawa’s throat made a small noise of acknowledgement, and just when he thought the hands would leave him, they didn’t. They all stayed, and he couldn’t help but shed a few tears, all of which were tenderly wiped away by the hand on his face. Someone swiped his bangs up, and a pair of lips kissed his forehead. 

“I won’t ever leave you, Tooru,” the lips muttered, and Oikawa knew it was Kuroo. “I’ll stay, and you’ll be safe.”

Safe. He really wanted to believe it, but the last time Kuroo said he would be safe… 

Instead of overthinking about the future, Oikawa nodded. “Safe,” he repeated weakly. “You’ll… keep me sa-safe.”

“Yes, Tooru. Safe,” the lips smiled against his forehead, then they disappeared. “You’ll heal, and I’ll never leave your side, I’ll keep you safe.”

“Mhm,” he nodded his head ever so slightly, and he felt so much more comfortable in that darkness. Because now he knew that there were people he loved around him. He was no longer in that terrible place, and he had been saved. With those last thoughts in his head, Oikawa drifted off into peaceful slumber, knowing that he would be alright.

Kuroo slept in the hospital, leaning back in the very uncomfortable chair with a thin blanket strewn over his body. He snored rather loudly because of his current position, but the boy in the hospital bed could not hear, as he did not stir. Kuroo startled himself awake with one particularly loud snore. He jerked out of the chair, nearly toppling over until he balanced himself on his feet. He sighed, then took a look at Oikawa.

Instead of sitting back down, Kuroo walked himself to the edge of the bed. He grasped onto the railing, then dipped his hand onto the bed and found Oikawa’s own, intertwining their fingers once he was able to. “You’re so strong, Oikawa,” he mused with a small yawn, a slight pull at the corners of his lips. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but just know that you are so strong. You’ll get through this.”

He caressed Oikawa’s palm, and then his eyes widened. Oikawa’s hand squeezed him back, and the once closed eyes slid open just a crack. “Tetsu, lay,” he whispered hoarsely. “With me?”

“But, Kawa, your knee. I don’t want to hurt you,” he protested, but Oikawa shook his head once. 

“Please?”

“Alright, Kawa. But if you even feel a slight sting in your knee, I’m moving.” The boy in the bed agreed, and Kuroo began to lift himself over the railing to curl up beside Oikawa on the opposite side of the injured knee. The shorter male placed his head on Kuroo’s chest, sighing deeply. “Hey, you have surgery tomorrow. Did you know that?”

“Haven’t been awake much, no,” he shook his head again. “Will… it hurt?”

“No, you’ll be under anesthetics, but it’ll hurt just a little once you’re out of surgery,” he answered honestly. “But medicine will make you feel better, and I’ll be here too. I’m a big strong man, Kawa, I’ll make all the pain go away.” 

He flexed with his open arm and Oikawa let a short giggle bubble from his throat, the first laugh he had exhaled in weeks. “Big strong man, mh-hm.”

“I’m so glad you’re awake, Kawa,” Kuroo rubbed his hand up and down Oikawa’s arm, avoiding the IV needles while he was at it. “When I found you, oh God, I was so worried and so scared.”

“Wait, you found me?” he croaked, and Kuroo shuddered.

“I found… both of you.”

“Both? What do you mean, Tetsu?” Oikawa almost sat up, but Kuroo held him down.

“You… and Kyoutani,” he let a few tears escape his eyes, and Oikawa’s face visibly paled. “He died a week and a half before we found you, and when I saw you, you were so pale, and you were bleeding, and just-” He hiccuped, and Oikawa buried his face into his chest.

“Don’t finish, I know you shouldn’t.”

So Kuroo just stopped talking, and focused on recalling his composure. All for Oikawa’s sake. He closed his eyes, and before he could fall asleep himself, Oikawa was gently breathing in a smooth rhythm, unbothered and settled. He smiled kindly, and wrapped his arm around the sleeping boy only a smidge tighter. 

He made a promise to himself that he’d never let anyone else get hurt while he was taking care of them, and he intended to keep that promise until the end of his days. He knew that Oikawa needed as much love and support he could get, and he truly wanted to become that person who Oikawa could lean on. Maybe one day, he would be able to proclaim this promise to the absolute best of his ability. Just maybe… 

The bells rang, the crowd cheered, and the little girls tossed flower petals into the aisle. Tooru, accompanied by Takahiro and Issei, made his way down that same aisle. The chocolate haired male stumbled every once in a while, but his friends helped him up. His smile was small but as meaningful as his love for the man at the end of the runway. Behind the trio, Takeru carried a silk pillow with two shining silver rings on it.

Hajime gazed at the scene unfolding in front of him as he stood on the sidelines, his own smile wide as he noticed the sparkles in Tooru’s curly chocolate locks underneath the thin veil. He took a small step back, clasping his hands in front of himself, so very proud of Tooru for moving on and finding another man to keep him safe.

The golden sun best down on them, reflecting off the sparkles and casting fresh lights into the crowd. The archway behind the priest was littered with flowers, and all right of the groom's men were split into two groups, Tetsurou's side and Tooru's side. Tooru's men wore teal and charcoal suits to represent who they used to be, while Tetsurou's men sported gray suits, with ties that showed their old high school colors. 

Issei, Takahiro, Yuutarou, and Tobio.

Kenma, Keiji, Koutarou, and Morisuke.

All of them were smiling on varying levels of enthusiasm, Koutarou more so than everyone else. Keiji had to quietly hush him every so often.

Tetsurou reached his hands towards Tooru, eyes wide in love and adoration. Tooru stepped onto the small riser platform, taking Tetsurou’s hands in his. The taller man softened his gaze, and the priest began. Tetsurou mostly tuned out the opening of the speech, however. He was far too enthralled by the anomaly in front of him, the beautiful man holding onto his nimble fingers.

“Now please, recite your vows of devotion, Kuroo Tetsurou,” he said kindly, gesturing to Tetsurou’s side of the conjoined hands. 

“Tooru, we were brought together in a way I never wanted to imagine. You were grieving and hurting but you let me close to you even in your most vulnerable state. After you told me the truth, my initial thought was not to even think of you as easy to reach, no. I set everything aside and helped you because you were hurting. But now, I don’t want you to come to me by accident or by chance. I want you to come to me as I am, your husband,” he took a ring from Takeru’s pillow, and gently slipped it onto Tooru’s finger. “I swear, you’ll always be able to rely on me.”

Tooru inhaled deeply, composing his tears as he began to recite his own vows. “Tetsu, I can’t even begin to thank you enough for trying everything you could to protect me. You never left even when things were dangerous and could even kill you. I was so defeated after everything, but you saved me. These past nine years with you have been some of the best times of my life, and you’ve always loved me at my best and at my worst. You always put me first, even before yourself. I’ll forever be in debt to you, but nothing I can do will ever be enough to thank you, so you’ll just have to settle with me for the rest of our lives,” he chuckled through his tiny pricks of tears, but he managed to slip on the other ring onto Tetsurou’s awaiting finger. “I love you, Tetsu.”

“You may now seal these vows,” he proclaimed, closing his book quietly. 

Tetsurou took initiative, lifting the veil and cupping Tooru’s cheek. He smoothly pressed their lips together, and Tooru easily returned the favor. The crowd clapped and cheered.

Hajime just exhaled a small breath. “You did it, Tooru. You’ve moved on. I’m so proud to have once called you mine. So proud, Tooru. Please, enjoy your life. It’s going to be a great one.” With that, Hajime forever left the world of the living. Now, he rejoined those above. He would watch over Tooru, but he knew that he was forever safe in Tetsurou’s arms. 

The ceremony ended, and Tooru bounded, well tried to, over to Issei and Takahiro. “We still got married before you, Tooru,” was Takahiro’s first retort.

“Mean, Mattsu-chan, mean!” Tooru whined. “Tetsu was just slow with his proposal, as other Mattsu-chan should have been.” He huffed, then puffed out his cheek, folded his arms, and looked as though he was about to complain to Tetsurou. However, something else caught his eye and he grinned maliciously. “TOBIO-CHAAAAAAN!” He nearly tripped, but Issei held him up and shook his head.

“Tooru, you seriously need to calm down,” he rolled his eyes, but Tooru ignored him. 

“Tobio-chan! Tobio-chan! When will you tie the knot just like me and Tetsu?” he leaned onto Tobio’s shoulder, and the younger boy supported him even though he looked as though he was about to collapse from embarrassment. 

Yuutarou bit his lip and focused on his shoes, blushing just as furiously as Tobio.

“Oh my gawd, you two are so cute and perfect together,” he giggled and grabbed Yuutarou’s arm to pull him towards Tobio, making them fall into each other. He stepped back and laughed heartily. “Tetsu, Tetsu! Lookie at my underclassmen! So cute, aren’t they?” He faced Tetsurou, who was extending his arm around Tooru, ready to catch him in case his knee decided to give out.

“Yes, Tooru,” he shook his head with a small grin. “Very cute.”

“Look, Tobio-chan, I expect to be the best man! Or at least a groom’s man!” he demanded, and Tobio just flushed even more as he stared at Tooru. 

“Jeez, Tooru, don’t pressure them!” Tetsurou groaned.

“But Tetsu! It’s been  _ years _ !” 

“Alright, alright, Tooru,” the taller man swooped down and scooped Tooru up into his arms, making the chocolate haired male screech in surprise. “Let’s go get some food, yeah? And also stop harassing your past underclassmen,” he added in a mutter, but Tooru caught it.

“Hey! I’m not harassing them!” he protested, but didn’t try to release himself. Instead, he leaned into Tetsurou’s chest and pouted. “But yes, I would like some food,” he grumbled, and Tetsurou smiled.

“Then we can have some cake, too,” he smirked at the sudden jolt of happiness in Tooru’s features. He was just too adorable. Tetsurou kissed the tip of his nose, and carried him to their table. “Let me get us something, you just rest your legs. You’ve walked around a lot today.”

“I’m okay, but thank you, Tetsu,” he easily slunk into the chair and pressed his lips to Tetsurou’s ring.

“You say you’re okay, Tooru, but I know you better,” he whispered in Tooru’s ear, then kissed his cheek and made for the food table. 

Tooru smiled towards his hands, which were splayed on the table, his eyes examining his ring. He really had healed so much since then, and he could almost grasp a future of happiness and love, all with Tetsurou. After all, nine years with the man who saved your life really changes things, doesn’t it?

_ Yeah, it does. _

But there was something else that arrived in Tooru’s life a little while ago, but he never really realized it until now.

_ Hope. _

**Author's Note:**

> Welp you made it through! Thanks for reading, and have a lovely day! I hope I didn't piss you off or make you too sad, but there will be fluffy non-binary Akaashi on Sunday! And and and! The next part for Akaashi's missing, I promise! I won't get behind anymore! ALSO! Thank you to my friend, who I will not disclose the name of for reasons, who helped me with all of my writer's block and gave me such wonderful ideas! I love you so much, my dude! (No romo of course :D)


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